


Dipped in Gold

by out_there



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - This World Inverted (Shadowhunters TV), Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, M/M, Magic Revealed, POV Alec Lightwood, Warlock Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25487683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/out_there/pseuds/out_there
Summary: Every year, Alec organises the Sapphire Ball, a fundraiser for homeless queer youth. It's important to him, and he takes it seriously. So seriously that he tends to become a little… intense. Which wouldn't be a problem if he could just distract Magnus with sex.(Set in the This World Inverted universe.)
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 35
Kudos: 292
Collections: Hunter's Moon Fic Recs





	Dipped in Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Celli for cheerleading every snippet I wrote; thanks to china_shop for hosting a "Write Every Day" challenge on Dreamwidth for June 2020. Without those two wonderful people, I never would have got this started, let alone finished. Thanks to Caro for beta reading and helping me figure out how this needed to end.

Panting, Alec leans back against the couch. The couch in question is a burgundy three-seater that Izzy found secondhand, and given that it wasn't threadbare or absolutely hideous, Alec was happy to help Simon move it in. When there was a working elevator. "When did that elevator break?" he asks, and Simon looks like a rabbit caught in headlights.

"Um," Simon says, swallowing and lifting one shoulder in a nervous shrug, "last week? Maybe?"

Alec raises an eyebrow. "Before Tuesday? Because Izzy didn't mention it." His short-sleeved shirt is clinging to him and he can feel the sweat dripping down his back. Lightweight cotton is no match for summer in Brooklyn and carrying a couch up two flights of stairs.

"At least we only have one flight to go?" Simon's hopeful, earnest grin honestly leaves Alec wondering what his sister sees in him. "And neither of us will have to go to the gym today?"

If Alec ever works out how to set people on fire using only his mind, Simon will be the first. "It's leg day. You don't skip leg day."

Again, Simon's eyes go wide behind his glasses. "Okay, well, let's move this and then you can go… kill someone else. On three?"

They do manage to get it into the apartment. Izzy, wearing baggy jeans and a lime green comics t-shirt, is working on two large screens and typing furiously. "Who are you going to kill?" she calls over her shoulder, not looking up.

"You," Alec says. "The elevator's broken."

"It's been broken all week." Izzy turns, finally noticing the couch and the sweaty, bedraggled state of her boyfriend and brother. "Oh, the couch! Did you have to carry that all the way up here?"

"Wingardium leviosa!" Simon calls out with a flourish of his hand. Alec knows his sister is something of a geek, but she's Izzy; she's been studying martial arts since she was seven and the only person tougher than his sister is his mom. She could have anyone she wanted. He has no idea why she picked Simon.

"Come on," Alec says. "You can't leave the couch here."

"It's in the living room," Simon says, and Izzy nods, her dark plait bouncing with the movement.

"It's throwing off the balance of the whole room. The TV should be there--" Alec points to the far corner, where the reflection from the window won't hit it but it doesn't take up the sole focus of the room. "--and the couch needs to be there."

"I thought you promised to stop rearranging my furniture," Izzy teases.

"I'm not rearranging. I'm moving it into the correct place."

Alec glares at both of them until Izzy laughs and Simon holds his hands up in surrender. "Fine, fine. We'll move everything."

It's not everything. It's a third of the room at most. And after Izzy sends an email off, she gets up to help them move the bookcase to the other wall as well, and it gives Alec a chance to organise Simon's assorted clutter into something that doesn't offend anyone with a shred of taste. It may never be chic, but it's the best he can do.

Simon pauses beside Alec, hands on his hips. "Did you colour coordinate my action figures?"

Alec points. "Warm colours." He points again. "Cool colours. Enough space in between to see them. It's not difficult."

"Hmm," Simon says, pulling a face only Izzy could love. "It does look good. I mean, I liked the Marvel vs DC organisation that I had, but this works too."

"So, now that you've spent an hour organising things you don't even own," Izzy says, flopping down on her new couch, which looks great there, "want to tell me what's wrong?"

Alec frowns at her. "Nothing's wrong."

Izzy pats the seat beside her. "Come on, Alec, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Everything. Is. Fine," Alec says firmly, crossing his arms and refusing to sit down. Behind them, a door closes as Simon goes to hide in the bedroom.

"If it's fine, then sit down and talk." Izzy pats the seat beside her again and stares at him until he can't refuse to sit down without proving her right. "How's it going with Magnus?"

Izzy is the only person in the world who can read him this well. If he didn't love her so much, Alec would hate that about her. "How do you do that? Know what's going wrong?"

"Because I know you," Izzy says, smiling so widely Alec can't really be annoyed by it. "If it was a work thing, you would have started tidying the kitchen. If it was Mom and Dad, you would have just told me. But rearranging the living room means it's personal and you're feeling out of control, and probably overthinking it, so it's probably Magnus."

It's that combination of logic and intuition that makes Izzy such a great coder, able to work a problem from every angle until she fixes it. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"Thank you. Now, spill."

"Magnus is…" Alec isn't good at this stuff. He's good at flirting and he definitely knows how to get guys into bed, but when it comes to this -- to talking about how he _feels_ \-- he's terrible.

"Magnus is..." Izzy circles a hand to encourage him to say something. "What? Happy? Sad? A lousy boyfriend?"

"No, he's great." Magnus is funny and charming and hot. He dotes on his cats and wears the softest cardigans, perfect for snuggling up on the couch, and he tells great stories about London and Morocco and Peru. Sometimes he laughs about his clients or the day's tarot readings, but he's kind to people and genuinely wants to help. "Magnus is… fine."

Izzy peers at him over her glasses. "So what's the problem if it's not Magnus?"

"His ex. She broke his heart and he said it's been years since he let anyone close." Izzy smiles like she thinks that's sweet, and Alec adds, "Close. Like, physically close."

"You two haven't…?"

"Nope."

"But you've been dating for two months," Izzy says, sounding just as amazed by the situation as Alec feels. He is not unattractive and Magnus is not blind. And it certainly hasn't been lack of willingness on his part, but even on the dates that end with them making out on Magnus' balcony, Magnus never reaches for more. And when Alec gets a bit handsy, Magnus is the one to catch Alec's hands in his, to gentle the kisses into something soft and sweet. "I'm not judging, but when was the last time you saw a guy for a week without sleeping with him?"

"2012. Saw him for two weeks, found out he was recovering from herpes and dumped him before we slept together," Alec says, and Izzy laughs. "It's not the no sex thing."

It's a little frustrating, sure, but it's also… romantic. Alec thinks it's romantic that Magnus fell so deeply that he swore off relationships when his heart was broken. It's impractical, yes, and maybe a little melodramatic, but it's wonderfully romantic too. Alec's never dated anyone that would make him swear off sex for a month after a breakup, let alone years.

"So what is it, _mi hermano_?" Izzy asks gently, and Alec takes a moment to think maybe Simon isn't so bad. At least he was smart enough to leave them alone for this conversation.

"It's that we're not sleeping together." When Izzy frowns, he adds, "It's the end of July, and we're not sleeping together."

"Two months isn't a big deal, Alec. Not for most people."

"In five weeks, I'll be hosting this year's Sapphire Ball, and you know how I get around that."

"A Lightwood Eleven," Izzy says, which is a little harsh. Personally, Alec would say he mostly keeps it around a Lightwood Nine, but the fact remains, he gets stressed and pretty high on the Lightwood intensity scale. (So named for their mother, who is capable of going from a civil, polite woman to a battlefield commander when her children are harmed. That is a Lightwood Twelve. Pity anyone who gets in the way of that.) "I'm sure he's seen you stressed before."

Alec gives a sharp shake of his head. "No. A three, maybe a four. I have been on my best behaviour, and he hasn't met Mom. He doesn't know how our family gets."

"How you and Mom get," Izzy objects.

"I've seen you spend twenty-seven hours straight in front of a computer to meet a deadline." The intensity -- the way that they will pour blood, sweat and tears into achieving goals -- that focus and determination, those are traits they all share. It's just something that other people find a bit too… much. It has its upsides: they're all successful in their professions and it translates well in bed, but Alec knows it's not his most attractive quality. There's a reason he's usually single by mid-September. "I like him, Izzy. I think-- maybe-- It could be something. Something good and strong and…"

"Are you falling in love?" Izzy shifts, pulling a knee up to her chest and grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Are you actually starting to care about one of your hookups?"

"Is it a hookup if we didn't have sex?"

"You stayed the night at his place the day you met him!"

"I slept on his couch," Alec mutters because it had been late and he'd walked Magnus home after the party, and Magnus had asked him upstairs for tea or _hot chocolate_ , and then looked so embarrassed by it that Alec had to say yes. They talked most of the night and the next morning, Alec woke up with cat hair over his shirt and Magnus curled up on the other end of the couch. "And it doesn't matter. Not if he breaks up with me by September."

"Maybe you just need to try a little harder," Izzy suggests, mimicking Alec's dejected sprawl across the couch. "Put some effort into seducing him?"

"Maybe." Alec shrugs. He has two weeks before things get truly hectic. Maybe he just hasn't been trying hard enough. "If that doesn't work, I'll just tell him I had to leave the city for a few weeks."

***

It shouldn't be difficult. After all, it's summer and Alec knows how good he looks in a fitted, short-sleeved shirt. But an entire day spent wandering through the luscious flowers of the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens ends with three kisses under a blossoming crepe myrtle and Magnus apologetically reminding Alec that he's having dinner with friends that night.

On Sunday, he drags Magnus to Coney Island. They eat enough cotton candy to make them both feel sick and buy hot dogs that Alec thinks are very overrated. They spend the afternoon at the beach but Magnus claims he's not interested in swimming. He undoes a few buttons on his shirt, revealing a tempting glimpse of smooth, golden skin.

Alec pulls towels for both of them out of his bag, and strips down to boardshorts. He's not imagining the way Magnus' eyes glaze over staring at his chest. 

It's an easy, lazy day, broken up with quick dips into the chilly seawater. Alec spends most of it stretched out on his towel, relaxing in the warm sunshine and the sound of the sea. Magnus tells him about his newest client and a book his friend Caterina recommended; Alec talks about the corporate party he's planning for next week and the latest reason his little brother got suspended from school. 

"I don't know where he gets it from," Alec says, rolling over to his stomach and settling his head to the side. Magnus nods like he's listening, but his staring isn't subtle. The way he keeps watching Alec's back and the wet shorts plastered to Alec's ass and thighs… Alec can almost feel the heat in that gaze. "I was a good student and Izzy only missed a school when she got her appendix out, but Max keeps finding new rules to break."

Magnus blinks and tears his gaze back to Alec's face. "Perhaps it's teenage rebellion. Sometimes it's easier to define yourself as a rebel than try to outshine someone else's example."

"Maybe he could do that in a way that won't be part of his permanent record?"

"That might be asking for a little too much common sense from a teenager," Magnus says, pulling a face that makes Alec chuckle. "Maturity takes time."

"So does an even tan." Alec stretches, too warm and comfortable to want to move. "Is there more sunscreen in the bag?"

Magnus wags a chiding finger at him, but he sits up and starts searching through the bag. "Aha!" he says, pulling out the tube.

Alec puts on his best puppy dog eyes. "Any chance you could put some on my back?"

"What did your last slave die of?"

"Exhaustion," Alec bites back quickly and Magnus snorts, covering a grin behind his fist. "You wouldn't want me to suffer sunburn, would you? That kind of skin damage can have serious consequences in later years."

"Well, I suppose a good boyfriend would protect you from melanomas." 

Magnus shuffles over, sitting beside Alec. He squeezes the cream into his hand and then rubs his hands together to spread it, and Alec does a little staring of his own at Magnus' hands, the short, neat nails and long graceful fingers. When Manus rests his palms on Alec's shoulder blades, there's a tingle of warmth across his skin. Alec bites his lip and tries to play it cool.

Magnus takes his time: smoothing the cream into Alec's skin and pouring more on his hands when it starts to catch. It's not hard enough to be a massage, but these long, slow strokes over his skin feel more like foreplay than skincare. Magnus takes his time pressing his hands all the way up to Alec's shoulders, and spreading his fingers wide as he drags his hands back down. He works in leisurely strokes, hands getting lower every time until they brush the waistband of Alec's shorts.

Magnus lifts his hands away, but before he's moved back to his own towel, Alec asks, "Legs, too?"

"That's bordering on lazy," Magnus says, his voice just a little lower and softer than usual.

"But I'm too comfy to move."

For some reason, having Magnus' hands on his thighs feels far more intimate. When thumbs brush his inner thighs, Alec hears his own shocked gasp. Magnus smooths the cream over the back of Alec's thighs, behind his knees, and over his calves. He even applies sunscreen to Alec's ankles and the soles of his bare feet. Then he clicks the lid back on and goes back to his own towel.

Alec stays right where he is. There's no way he could turn over without his current erection being embarrassingly obvious.

It's not even dark when Magnus says, "We'll have to head back. I've got an early client in the morning."

"First thing on a Monday?" Great, Alec thinks, he's spent hours lounging about almost naked, and all for nothing. He'd figured that after an entire day of staring, Magnus might be a little more receptive to the idea of sex. But an early appointment means that Magnus won't invite him up for a hot chocolate nightcap. There's no chance of ending the night making out on Magnus' couch for an hour. No chance of leaning in and whispering that they should take this to bed. Damnit.

"I know. Nine a.m. on a Monday really shouldn't exist."

***

On Wednesday, they go out to a tiny Turkish restaurant. Magnus has a gift for knowing the best places that hide behind the least appealing storefronts. The first time he led Alex down a dark alleyway to a grimy cafe door, Alex had been amazed to step inside and find a cosy Italian restaurant and Brooklyn's best meatballs. When Magnus suggests the lamb, Alec's unsurprised to find it fragrant and mouth-wateringly tender.

"So?" Magnus asks, head cocked to one side and adorably smug.

"It's so good," Alex says, speaking another piece on his fork. "You were right."

Magnus brushes a hand across his short hair, managing not to disturb the neat part. "Those are three words I never tire of hearing." 

***

It's a warm summer night, and what started as a glass of iced tea on Magnus's balcony has evolved into slow, sweet kisses. Alec still has a cold glass in his hand, half-full of amber liquid, but his other hand is resting on the muscle of Magnus' shoulder. Magnus' lips are soft and warm, and every so often he'll pull back for a moment and look at Alec -- with this little smile, like he's checking in and pleased by whatever dazed expression is on Alec's face. It's sweet and it feels… caring. Protective.

It feels strange, but a good strange. Something Alec would like to get used to.

The next time Magnus pauses, Alec waves the glass still in his hand. "Let me put this down." There isn't a table out here, so he tucks it in close to the side of the wicker couch, and then turns back to Magnus. "Now, where were we?"

Magnus brushes his thumb against his own lower lip, something secretive in his expression. "Since it's a weeknight, one of us was probably going to remember the time."

"Do you have any early appointments tomorrow?"

Magnus looks intrigued. "No, but don't you have--"

"I can reschedule," Alec says, leaning back in for another kiss. Magnus meets him halfway, fingers gliding along Alec's neck to guide him closer. It's unhurried and luxurious, and Alex leans a little closer, daring to rest a hand on Magnus' knee for balance.

There's a nip to Alec's lower lip, barely more than a hint of teeth but Alec hears himself groan.

At the sound, Magnus pulls back, head tilted away from Alec. "It is getting late," he says gently, not even looking at Alec. The lamplight from inside catches on his cheekbones, his brow, the curve of his upper lip. He's gorgeous.

Alec catches Magnus' hand in his, twisting until their palms can slide together. He interlaces their fingers, thinking of silver and gold when he notices the contrast of their skin. "If it's so late, maybe we should go to bed," Alec says and Magnus' hand squeezes his tightly for a second.

"No." It's not the blank refusal that bothers Alec; it's how upset Magnus looks as he says it. It's how Magnus pulls his hand back and clasps them in his lap, toying the hem of his tan shirt. "No, that's not happening tonight."

"Should we talk about this? Is it--" Alec nearly asks if it's him, if there's something lacking in Alec that Magnus just can't see past. But that would be insecure and come across as a little pathetic and Alec's seen Magnus check him out. He knows Magnus is attracted to him. He knows Magnus likes kissing him, but it never goes further than that. "Is it something you'd want eventually? Or is it something you're not interested in?"

"Believe me, Alexander," Magnus says, voice purring over his name, "there is no lack of interest. That is not the issue here."

"Then what is?"

"I told you that I haven't slept with anyone since my ex." There's a little handwave, the kind of gesture Magnus only makes when it's the two of them. "There's some other things I need to tell you before we sleep together, and honestly, I'm not ready to talk about them yet."

Alec thinks that it's probably for the best that he doesn't know Camille's last name. If he did, he knows he'd be tempted to track her down and find a way to make her life miserable. The way Magnus talks about her makes it clear that she broke more than just his heart. "Are you sure we need to talk about them first? If there's things you don't want to do, that's fine, you don't have to tell me why."

"It's less things and more--" Another handwave, this one somehow less certain. "--how I might react to them."

"Would it help if I mentioned I'm good in bed?" It's not bragging if it's true. Alec knows what his skills are, and he's had two different boyfriends tell him that if the sex wasn't so good, they'd have broken up with him months earlier. Probably best not to mention that last point to Magnus. No point giving him ideas. "I mean, very, very good."

Magnus has the same glazed look as he did on the beach, when Alec walked dripping out of the surf to fetch his towel. Magnus blinks once and runs a pink tongue along his lip. "Okay, that is… good motivation, so I guess it does help. And we will talk, I promise. Just… not yet."

"Is there any way I can help?"

Magnus snorts. "Do you believe in magic?"

"I've been to Vegas. Magic isn't real."

For some reason, that makes Magnus duck his head down and giggle.

***

It's going to be a sweltering hot day, hot enough that Alec almost considers asking for ice-cubes in his black coffee. Beside him, Simon orders a pair of iced mochas with extra cream and ice-cream and gets served two ridiculous drinks with chocolate sprinkles. Alec eyes them dubiously and orders a simple Americano.

They get back to the table and Clary says she's going to get her drink. As soon as Jace sees her, he closes up the window and disappears out the back. Obviously, the pair of them are going to spend the next ten minutes making out behind the coffee van. If Alec's really lucky, it'll be half an hour.

He loves his sister. For her sake, he can tolerate her boyfriend, Simon. He has no interest in Simon's best friend, Clary. And there is no earthly reason why he should have to talk to Clary's boyfriend, Jace. And yet Izzy's decided that they're the kind of friendly group that should catch up over coffee.

"You're glaring," Izzy says around a mouthful of ice cream. In response, Alec turns an actual glare on her. "How are things going with Magnus?"

"Fine." Before her raised eyebrow can turn into sibling squabbling -- it's too hot to argue today -- he adds, "It's the same. No change."

"I thought you were going to, you know, be a bit more gung-ho about it," she says with an adorable raised fist of solidarity, like she's on a protest march, rather than discussing his lack of a sex life.

"I tried."

"Try harder!"

"When someone says they want to discuss some things before you sleep together because their ex messed them up, only a jerk would keep trying to push."

"A massive jerk," Simon agrees, and Alec scowls at the table. He hates it when Simon agrees with him. "The whole point is so he doesn't break up with you, and doing that kind of guarantees it. Not a smart move."

Across the table, Izzy gives him a sheepish smile. Clearly, she told Simon everything. "Are you sure you're not just over-thinking this? Trying to plan it out when it should be a spur of the moment thing?"

"There isn't enough coffee in the world for this conversation," Alec mutters darkly. "I doubt your relationship started by jumping Simon's bones one night."

The grin Izzy gives him is absolutely filthy. "It worked out fine."

"More than fine," Simon adds cheerfully. "Can you imagine a girl as hot as this leaning over and-- oh, I guess you're not the best audience for this."

"Because she's my sister?"

"Well, I was going to say because you are hella gay, and not even the kind of gay that can still appreciate ScarJo's sizeable assets."

There is nothing about that sentence that isn't horrifying. Alec stares at Simon, his happy little shrug and his friendly smile. "Why are you even here?"

"Because he loves me," Izzy says, clearly rolling her eyes while she's turned away from Alec, "and you're my big brother and you want me to be happy."

"I don't have to witness it."

Izzy peers at him over the blue plastic frames of her glasses. "I don't have to tell Mom that you've been seeing a new boy you really like. And I won't as long as you're nice to Simon."

Alec knows he should be thankful that his mom has always been supportive of his sexuality and shown interest in the guys he dates. He knows he's lucky. But he also knows how enthusiastic his mother gets about him dating and there is no way he wants to expose Magnus to a meet-the-family dinner until he absolutely has to. "Fine. The would-be rocker can stay."

Simon stabs the air with a finger. "Hey!"

"Was any part of that inaccurate?"

"My band is far more pop electronica than rock!"

Alec raises one eyebrow, trying to channel his mother's most judgemental expression. "The would-be pop electronica artist can stay."

Simon clasps him on the back, completely missing the point. "Thanks, man. It's an important distinction."

Alec eyes the three empty cups between them. He has a meeting uptown, so he can't hang around all day. "Do you two have any useful advice?"

Izzy pushes her glasses up her nose. "Show some skin and pounce."

Simon wobbles his head back and forth like a bobble doll, squinting into the distance. "I know this is the really scary option, but maybe talk to him? Tell him the truth?"

"That I become a narcissistic jerk in September?"

"That this is your busiest time." Simon's tone is far more gentle than Alec deserves. It's so annoying that he doesn't even recognise Alec's dislike. "That you really like him, but for a couple of weeks you're not going to have much time to hang out. What's the worst that could happen?"

"That we put this thing on hold and while I'm chasing down the hire place that promised fifteen tables and only delivered eleven, he meets someone new. Someone who understands work-life balance and has better control of their temper. Probably a CPA who understands interest rates and how to trade options on the stock market."

"Doesn't everyone understand interest rates?" Simon studied accounting for two years before following his dream of becoming a working musician. So far, he has occasional gigs and a lot of work as a waiter, but he is helpful during tax season. "Everybody lives with them. That's not difficult."

"Fine. A real estate agent with a gorgeous place overlooking Central Park and a collection of Wedgewood china."

"That's really specific," Izzy says. "Are you just naming guys you've slept with that impressed you?"

"No," Alec lies.

"You said it was years since he dated. I don't think he'll find someone new in a few weeks."

"You haven't seen him shirtless." Alec still dreams about the afternoon he let himself into Magnus' unlocked apartment, and found Magnus doing tai chi on his balcony. In nothing but a form-fitting pair of yoga pants. For a guy who loves his oversized cardigans, Magnus is surprisingly fit. Strong shoulders, biceps and a very well-muscled back. When Magnus turned, Alec could count each ab. Alec could write sonnets about the cut of those hips.

Well, no, Alec couldn't but someone should. Someone should be tracing the ridges of muscle, licking along those valleys until Magnus begs for more.

Of course, as soon as Magnus saw him he scurried into a t-shirt at the speed of light. Yet another reason why it's a tragedy that they're not having sex. "Fine," Alec says, "less thinking, more… pouncing."

***

Pouncing. Alec can do that. Less thinking, more pouncing. They get Thai take out and eat it at Magnus' loft, and Alec spends half of dinner thinking that he'll need to wait until they take their drinks to the sofa. More comfortable, more relaxed. No chance of uncomfortable dining table corners digging into anyone. And even though Izzy said pounce, he can't start anything without kissing Magnus first -- so sofa, and then lean over to kiss Magnus, and then get to his knees.

Alec thinks that might be the trick of it. Kneeling in front of Magnus, palms on Magnus' strong thighs, and he can say something like… _Why don't we fool around?_ Something light and easy. Not something that says sex or the bedroom, just… maybe mention that Magnus doesn't have to get undressed, that it doesn't have to be serious, it could just be a bit of fun.

He might have to make it clear that he's not expecting Magnus to reciprocate, that there's no obligation… but there's no sexy way to say that. Maybe he'd have to say something a bit sexier, like _I want to suck you_ but that's a bit crude. Maybe _I want to taste you_ , but who talks like that? Other than porn stars?

Maybe it would be better to say nothing? Just kneel and start undoing Magnus' zipper. That's pretty obvious. It might be a bit too presumptive but that's the point of pouncing. He just has to go for it and --

\-- suddenly, there's fingers snapping in front of his face. Alec blinks and follows the fingers up Magnus' outstretched arm, and the unimpressed face beyond it. "And you're back," Magnus says sharply. "Was I boring you?"

Alec swallows guiltily. "No."

Magnus smiles sweetly, and Alec feels himself smile back. "Any opinions on what I just told you?"

"I think you're right," Alec tries hopefully, and it's worth it for the way Magnus laughs. "Sorry, I think I tuned out there."

"Busy day?"

"Busy…" Alec pauses. It's not as if today was any worse than any day in the last three months. And he knows it's going to get impossibly busier come September, but he really can't remember the last time he had an easy week without some kind of deadline hanging over him. "Just busy. Sometimes, I miss the days when nobody knew me and every event was a struggle to prove myself."

"Maybe you just need a little more help?"

"Raj is already working full-time hours and I don't have the income to justify another salary." Alec sighs. He's gone through the numbers. "I'm stuck in limbo until it either dies down or picks up a little more."

There's nothing but sympathy in Magnus' beautiful brown eyes. "What about some temps? Or asking your friends if they want to earn a few extra dollars?"

Alec snorts. "I'd rather my friends remained my friends. That won't happen if I end up yelling at them because the table settings are wrong."

"There is so much in that sentence we should unpack," Magnus says, widening his eyes and giving a wave of his hand. "But first, how about we move to the sofa?"

Alec gathers their drinks -- red wine for him, ginger beer for Magnus -- and moves them to the living room while Magnus throws away empty containers. He sits a third of the way along the sofa -- enough space for Magnus to sit comfortably, close enough that he should be able to lean over and kiss Magnus -- and eyes the rug carefully. It doesn't look very thick. Lucky Alec wore jeans to protect his knees.

Magnus steps over the sofa, light on his feet, spinning a little before he graciously collapses onto the sofa. "Thank you," he says as Alec hands him his drink. "Cheers."

"To us," Alec says because it's become something of a joke between them. A line that made an impression, even if that impression was that Alec comes on a little too strong.

For a second, Alec wonders if pouncing really is a good idea. Then again, of the two of them, Izzy lives with her adoring, besotted boyfriend and Alex lives alone since his elderly cat passed away a year ago. If Alec's instincts were so great he probably wouldn't have so many dinner-for-ones in his freezer.

Alec places his glass of wine down on the coffee table. Then he turns back to Magnus and leans in for a kiss.

"Oh," Magnus murmurs happily into the first kiss. "Okay," after the second kiss, and by the third, his fingers are scratching at the nape of Alec's neck. Alec can't help closing his eyes at the delightful trail of shivers down his spine, hearing himself make a few approving noises of his own.

It's unfair that Magnus is so good at kissing. Honestly, it turns Alec's brain to mush. He can't think beyond soft lips and sharp teeth and warm, talented tongue. Magnus always keeps a respectful distance between them and it drives Alec crazy, leaves him drowning in mouths and hands, all the places they could be touching but aren't. It makes Alec forget about every looming deadline; makes him forget there's anything outside this room and this gorgeous man who makes Alec's head swim and his heart beat faster. Who leaves Alec dizzy, breathless and shivering.

And blinking stupidly when Magnus pulls back and asks, "Is that you?"

The question doesn't make any sense until Alec hears the ringing coming from his jeans pocket. He leans away and gets it out, frown only getting deeper when he sees Raj's name. Raj wouldn't call him at ten o'clock if it was anything less than a disaster. 

"Fuck," Alec says, answering the call. "What's gone wrong?"

"The venue for Slater and Co," Raj says quickly. "We don't have one."

"That is three weeks away. You confirmed the Plaza months ago."

"I emailed them to confirm the booking, yes."

Alec glares at Magnus' kitchen. It's not the kitchen's fault, but he can't glare at Raj right now. "And they confirmed in writing?" he asks, knowing what the answer will be.

"No. They didn't reply and it slipped my mind."

"It slipped your mind?" Alec growls down the phone. "It slipped your mind to confirm the venue?"

"I thought I had!" Raj yells back.

"But you didn't! And now we've sent out invitations to a party that doesn't have a venue!" For good measure, Alec adds, "Fuck!" and takes a breath. 

He hates last-minute venue changes. It's unprofessional. It's embarrassing.

"Okay," Alec says, because it's not like he can just cancel the entire thing and hide under a rock for the next decade -- no matter how nice it sounds right now. "Send me a copy of every email we've had regarding this. What are you doing tomorrow?"

Raj rattles off a list of tasks that actually need to be done in the next two days. Alec scrunches his face up and groans. He can already tell he's going to hate this week before it's done.

"I'll fix it," Alec promises. "You know what needs to be done. And for the Andersen's…"

"I'll make sure the venue confirms in writing," Raj promises and says a quick goodbye before Alec can yell at him any more.

Alec rubs at his eyes, wondering how much sleep he's going to lose this week to get this done. The whole thing leaves him wanting to take a nap.

"That didn't sound good." Over his shoulder, Magnus is watching him with a concerned expression. 

Great. Magnus just watched him yell into his phone. Perfect way to end the date. "I'll figure something out," Alec says and forces a smile.

Magnus looks less than convinced. Alec doesn't blame him. He'd have pretty strong reservations about someone yelling over a simple mistake. "Sorry, I'm a little stressed. I'm not usually like this," Alec lies, knowing perfectly well he's always a little too uptight, too intense about getting everything right and too quick to fly off the handle when things go wrong. But Magnus doesn't know that and the longer it takes him to figure that out, the better.

***

Alec spends all of the next day on the phone, trying any half-decent venue and hoping for a last-minute cancellation. Three weeks notice for a party of a hundred and thirty people in Manhattan? He might as well ask for world peace and a cure to common stupidity. The only bright side is that Raj does every task on his list without a single FaceTime call to Alec. It's nice to have a day without Raj complaining about the last girl he dated or internet outage in his block or Amazon shipping speeds, but given the choice, Alec would prefer the complaining and a venue.

He stays up until 2am trying to complete all the things he was supposed to get done that day, and he's never hated anything as much as his alarm at 6am the next morning. But during his fourth coffee that afternoon, he receives some good news. It comes from Lydia Branwell, a professional contact and almost friend of Alec's. She's an assistant manager at one of her family's hotels, smart, pretty and efficient. Exactly the kind of girl Alec would date if he was a lot lower on the Kinsey scale.

"Alec," Lydia says, not even bothering with a hello. "I heard you were stuck for a venue, 27th of August? How many?"

"130. Can you help?"

"It depends. Are your caterers licensed to serve alcohol?"

It was going to be at the Plaza which doesn't allow external caterers, but given that he doesn't have a venue, Alec's spent some time calling caterers he's worked with and seeing who has the capacity to help. "Not hired yet, but I know who we can use."

"We're renovating the rooftop bar at one of our hotels in Midtown and we've had some trouble getting the liquor licenses renewed," Lydia says, which explains how a rooftop bar in the middle of Manhattan could be empty. If there's one thing a bar needs, it's alcohol. "If you can organise the catering and get the event licenses sorted, we'll lease you the space."

"At a discount rate," Alec insists because it's not as if Lydia could use that space otherwise.

"At a good discount," Lydia agrees, "if you can tell me what the dress code to this year's Sapphire Ball will be."

"Theme and location get announced seven nights before, no earlier. It's tradition." It's tradition because the very first year it had been… an impulse. Izzy had still been in college, brainstorming ways to raise funds for Rainbow Rooms, essentially a youth hostel for homeless queer kids. Alec had laughed at her bakesale idea -- Izzy and baking are frenemies at the best of times -- and said they could raise more money throwing a party. That first year had been college students and the dress code had been blue and fancy, and they'd all been crammed into a tiny bar, but it was a success. They raised thousands and the next year, Alec found a bigger place and proper caterers and insisted on pre-purchased tickets so he didn't have to take cash at the door.

"You can't even give me a hint?"

"Send me over the booking paperwork." In a moment of weakness, Alec adds, "Pastels. Don't tell anyone."

"Not a soul," Lydia promises, gratifyingly serious.

***

The wide black door swings open to reveal Magnus, in dark jeans and a cosy cardigan. "Oh, Alexander," he says in a tone so soft and warm Alec could curl up and nap in it. "You look exhausted."

"Thanks." Alec rolls his eyes, although he knows Magnus is right. He was almost tempted to call Izzy and borrow foundation when he saw the shadows under his eyes this morning. But Izzy's taste in makeup is cheap and cheerful, and he doesn't trust her to have anything that would be subtle and effective. And given that a few nights' sleep or some very large sunglasses would also fix the problem, he's not going to invest the time or funds to find a good skin tone match.

Magnus steps backs and waves him inside. "I was going to suggest the new Italian place three blocks over, but now I'm thinking takeout. Maybe delivery."

To be honest, there is nothing more appealing right now than Magnus' sofa. But it's the first week of August, far too early for Alec to be too tired to leave the apartment. "I'm happy to go out if you want to." After all, he is wearing a very nice suit and a fern green shirt that makes his eyes pop. He might be exhausted but he looks good.

Magnus tilts his head, giving an adorable frown. "We'll get it delivered. What do you want?"

"Meatballs. Or… something with Bolognese. I'm not fussy."

"Really?" Magnus raises an eyebrow at Alec, even as he fishes a phone out of his pocket. "Because your carefully ironed collars suggest otherwise."

"I'm not fussy about food." Izzy's the same. They both tend to eat anything set in front of them. Max is the only one who complains when something is burnt black or so spicy it burns the roof of your mouth. Alec and Izzy might tease each other for their terrible cooking, but they'll both eat it. "Lightwoods aren't known for our cooking skills."

"Sounds like there's a story there," Magnus says, typing into his phone. 

So while he orders, Alec tells him about the first thing he can remember cooking: a stew recipe from his grandmother. How his mom had been so sad after her mother died, so he and Izzy found the recipe and carefully made it for her. They made it for her when she found out their father was cheating, and when the divorce was finalised. "It's horrible," Alec says, following Magnus to the sofa. "I don't think anyone could objectively call it good, but Mom loves it so it's family tradition. If your heart's breaking, here, have some terrible stew."

"I can't decide if that's worrying or terribly sweet."

"Izzy made it for me when Jackson dumped me in junior year," Alec says, realising a few moments too late that this isn't a good topic of conversation. It's not the sort of thing he's ever bothered telling people. Izzy only knows because she was there. "You learn very quickly it's not worth moping over breakups."

"Really? No tubs of ice-cream and Bridget Jones movies?" Magnus teases, tilting his head coyly. He runs light fingers over the back of Alec's hand. "Did he break your heart terribly?"

Alec considers it for a moment. If he's absolutely honest… "I don't know. He was my first boyfriend, but I don't think I loved him. I liked him, and he was my first, but it was disappointing to break up. It wasn't painful. I was a bit sad for a while, but it wasn't… "

"Heartbreaking?" Magnus asks gently. "That emptiness, like you've been shattered open and lost a piece of yourself? That ache right in the middle of your chest?"

"Never had it, not really." Alec doesn't know if it makes him unromantic, or if other people fall in love easier than he does. There's a mean part of him that wonders if maybe, just maybe, other people fall apart over the tiniest little things.

Magnus suggests watching something so Alec lets him choose. They end up eating pasta on the sofa, watching some Australian movie about ballroom dancing. A little voice in the back of Alec's head says he should be reviewing the catering menu for Slater & Co, and he needs to make sure Raj booked chamber music for the Andersen's party; the invitations for the Sapphire Ball should be ready tomorrow, so he really needs to schedule out his Sunday for checking the ticketing website and see how the numbers are looking. It wouldn't hurt to add a personal note to the invitations to thank people for their support. And maybe a _Hope to see you there_ for those who haven't bought a ticket. He needs to confirm if Simon can perform and if so, he should probably book seats and meals for Izzy and Simon. He might be able to talk Izzy into helping him on the door. Alec pulls his phone out and starts making notes.

"Alexander," Magnus says gently as Alec is scheduling some time on Wednesday to go to the flower markets and confirm what options he'll have for mid-September. "Would you rather watch something else?"

Alec shakes his head. "It's fine. I'm not watching anyway. I just needed to get a few things down."

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," Magnus says brightly. "I'm perfectly capable of enjoying Baz on my own."

Alec nearly asks who Baz is, but it's probably the actor paused on the screen. Mediterranean looking, all olive skin and thick, black hair. Huh, Alec thinks. Maybe Magnus has a type.

"Yeah, that would be--" Alec catches himself just in time. Good boyfriends don't blow off a Friday night date to catch up on work. He's pretty sure even mediocre boyfriends don't do that. "I'll turn my phone off and pay attention."

He knows it's the right choice the second Magnus lights up with a boyish grin. "Trust me. It's a fun movie."

***

Alec wakes up on an unfamiliar sofa, the light around him hazy and tinted orange through sheer curtains. Magnus' loft seems different by morning light: a little more cluttered, a little more lived-in; quiet, cosy and comfortable. Alec slowly sits up, pushing away the blankets over him and looking around. There's a pillow on the couch, with a deep red pillow case that makes Alex wonder what the rest of Magnus' bed looks like. His loafers are paired neatly by the dining table, and his jacket is hanging over one of the chairs. Alec wriggles his socked toes, weirdly touched that Magnus apparently drew the line at removing anything more than his shoes.

His phone is still to the coffee table. Alec reaches for it and turns it on, but every email requires actual thought and Alec needs coffee first. He slides his phone into his pants pocket and stands up, wondering if he should leave a note for Magnus or just text him later.

As if summoned by a thought, the double doors of Magnus' bedroom slide open, and Magnus steps out with his hair neatly combed and his face smoothly shaved. He's wearing black pants and a dressing gown in satin or silk, something thin and shiny, a deep chocolate brown that's barely tied around his waist. Alec realises he's staring at the deep v of smooth, tawny chest, the muscles shifting as Magnus walks closer, but it takes him a few moments to drag his eyes back up to Magnus' face.

Magnus' expression is coy and delighted. "Good morning, Alexander."

"Thanks," Alec says because it's hard to form words when Magnus is standing there, looking polished and pretty, while Alec is painfully aware that his own hair is probably standing in ten different directions and his stubble says boozy weekend in Atlantic City.

"For anything in particular?"

"The blankets. The pillow. For letting me stay."

"I could hardly kick you out. You didn't even get to see the end of the movie."

That explains why Alec doesn't remember it. He remembers sliding down on the couch, thinking if he tilted his head away from Magnus he could close his eyes and Magnus would never know. How good it would feel to sneak in a tiny nap, just a few minutes… "Sorry about that."

"Don't be ridiculous, darling. You were exhausted." Magnus punctuates his point with a bop on Alec's nose, as if he was Chairman Meow trying to scale the bookcase full of various New Agey glass jars. "Coffee?"

"Please," Alec says, leaning forward for a good morning kiss before considering that he hasn't brushed his teeth yet. Magnus doesn't care, judging by the way he slides a hand around Alec's neck to pull him closer. It quickly becomes a much better kiss, deep and a little dirty, Magnus' mint-sweet tongue in his mouth and a strong arm curved around the small of his back.

Alec hears the breathy moan he makes when he slides his hands up Magnus' sides, feeling the silky give of fabric, the heat of Magnus' body underneath. He pushes his palms up, skimming ribs and pecs, feeling the raised nipple beneath his palms. Magnus hisses and for a second, Alec would almost swear his eyes flash gold. Then Magnus retaliates with a kiss beneath Alec's ear and starts kissing his neck with just the right hint of teeth. Alec loves sex like this, when he's relaxed and still sleepy, when it's too good to remember everything lurking in his calendar. Just skin and hands and bodies, quiet moans and sleepy kisses. This is why morning sex is the best.

"I don't know if I'd say it's the best," Magnus says and Alec blinks stupidly before…

...absolute mortification sets in. "I did not say that out loud."

"You are not at your best before coffee." Magnus leans in again but it's only for a quick peck. He pulls back, tries to step away and Alec panics, grabbing handfuls of Magnus' robe.

"Look, I--" Looking down, Alec sees that he's crushing the fabric in his fists and lets go.

"Whatever it is," Magnus says gently, hands cradling Alec's elbows, "you can tell me."

"I wasn't trying to pressure you. The sex comment, I mean."

"I know. You've been nothing but respectful."

Alec doesn't want to say anything, but… "Can you promise me something stupid?"

"I read tarot cards for a living," Magnus replies brightly. "I'm practiced at making stupid promises."

"Just… promise me we'll have sex before we break up?"

"That's a very open-ended promise."

"Just, even if you've already decided, just promise that… at least once. I can be patient if I know that at least once I'll get to see you naked." It sounds sleazy when Alec says it like that, but it's unthinkable that the hottest and nicest guy Alec's ever dated might get scared away before Alec even gets past second base.

Magnus snorts, face scrunching up in amusement. He brushes Alec's wayward curls from his forehead. "I think you need coffee, and maybe a shower." He presses one last kiss to Alec's cheek and then herds him into the kitchen.

***

"So," Izzy says, sighing as she pulls another stack of invitation cards over and another pile of envelopes, "how's Magnus?"

Alec has better things to do than gossip about his love life. Like writing out the next hundred envelopes because people have a different reaction to a handwritten envelope than a mass-printed one. On the other hand, his sister has spent the last hour carefully sliding cardstock into envelopes, and they're only halfway. Alec should show his gratitude somehow.

"It's… okay. So far."

"And have you…?" Izzy gives a ridiculous waggle of her dark eyebrows.

"No." Alec glares at the next address on the list, pretending that he needs a quiet moment to copy it out. "Not for lack of trying."

"And you?"

"I yelled at Raj once in front of him. A Lightwood Seven, if that."

"Not what I meant." Behind the thick frames of her glasses, Izzy stares at him hopefully. Her rusty brown t-shirt claims that Han shot first; Alec doesn't get it. "How are you? I haven't seen you smile once since I got here."

That has to be a lie. Alec's sure he smiled when he opened the door and found Izzy offering to help (even if he rolled his eyes at her explanation: Simon's rehearsing in their living room). "If we have to talk about someone's annoying love life, can it be yours?"

"Simon isn't annoying. He's adorable," Izzy says, and Alec gives her the dead-eyed glare that sort of lie deserves. "We had his family over for dinner Friday night."

"Really?" Alec looks up so fast he loses his place in the list and has to turn back to the last addressed envelope. Izzy is many wonderful things, but she's not a cook and she's not a hostess. "That must have been a disaster."

"I offered wine to an ex-alcoholic. And I burned the dinner so badly I suggested we go get bacon burgers delivered."

"Isn't Simon's family Jewish?"

"Yeah. Turns out bacon is not a universally loved meat."

"I'm sure they loved you by the end of the night." It's Izzy: enthusiastic, impulsive, warm and welcoming. Anyone with half a brain would love her.

"His mom liked me. I think his sister still wishes he was dating Clary."

"Can you imagine it? There'd never be a second of silence between them."

"Hey!" Izzy punches his left arm and doesn't hold back as much as she should. She's lucky it doesn't smear the address he's writing. "Clary's nice."

"Clary talks. A lot."

"Not everyone can pull off the tall, dark and silent type."

Alec snorts. "I don't think short, redhead chatterbox is anyone's type."

"It's Jace's type." There's a teasing lilt in Izzy's voice as she seals another envelope for the posting pile. "And even you can admit he's pretty hot."

"I hadn't noticed." Floppy golden-blond hair, full lips, strong jawline and intriguingly mismatched eyes. Alec might have checked him out a few times when he was just a hot local barista. But then he started dating Clary and Alec realised the guy was extremely straight and painfully smitten. He's also the most competitive pool player Alec's ever met, so he's the most fun to hang out with when Izzy insists on group things.

"Not your type?"

Hot and muscled and confident and competitive? That is exactly Alec's type. "Too straight," Alec says honestly and Izzy laughs.

***

After that, Alec gets organised. He has two events in the next three weeks, and then the Sapphire Ball. He doesn't really have time to date but he can find a couple nights during the week to suggest dinner -- to keep it to casual places, all cheery fast service and bright overhead lights. Places where the whole meal can be finished in thirty minutes and even if he dawdles, even if he lets himself enjoy the fun way Magnus spins a story, the way he laughs if Alec makes a joke… It's fine. He still has time to go to the gym, wake himself up and get a few more hours' work done when he gets home.

Weekends are trickier. Honestly, all Alec wants to do is sleep, and maybe go for a run to burn off that building tension in the pit of his stomach. But Magnus invites him over on Saturday to _'spend some time together'_ and Alec grew up with his mom -- he can hear an order veiled in polite concern.

On Saturday, Alec sleeps as late as he can and then runs for an hour, until his legs feel wobbly and the back of his t-shirt is soaked with sweat. He grabs a double Americano on the way back to his apartment, and it kicks in by the time he's showered and dressed. On the way to Magnus' loft, Alec picks up another Americano and something for Magnus. Alec knows it's the right move when Magnus opens the door and absolutely beams at him.

"For me?" Magnus asks, as if a coffee is a big deal. "You remembered my order?"

Alec rolls his eyes. "Soy chai latte with one sugar. It's not complicated."

Instead of taking one of the cups, Magnus cups Alec's jaw and kisses him. The kiss is soft and warm, and Magnus smells like cinnamon and sandalwood. It's completely unfair that Alec's hands are full, so he can't pull Magnus back in when he steps back. It feels like months since he's kissed Magnus, even if Alec knows Magnus gave him a goodbye peck on Thursday.

"I was going to drag you out shopping," Magnus says, taking his drink, "but since you come bearing gifts, you might have earned yourself a reprieve."

When it comes to shopping, Alec generally buys online. It's easier to have a few screens open and directly compare than spending hours traipsing around shop after shop, only to find they don't have the shirt he wants in the size and colour he needs. He can't remember mentioning that to Magnus, but he must have at some point. "I don't care what we do."

"How about we walk down to Williamsburg and check out the flea market?"

Alec pulls a face. Flea markets are always full of old junk overpriced for tourists and hipsters. If he wants handmade crafts, he has Etsy. "Fine."

Magnus tilts his head, looking a little too amused. "Not a fan of flea markets?"

"Not a fan of buying something old and used when I could pay half as much in Walmart."

"Aren't you a cranky panda." Magnus takes a sip of his latte and then his eyes go wide. "That's an idea. Prospect Park Zoo."

"That's for kids," Alec points out. "Little kids."

"Animals are for everyone."

"Even Max says he's too old for that zoo." When Max was a few years younger, Alec used to take him to the zoo to watch the sea lions and the baboons. Max used to love stalking the free-roaming peacocks, always convinced that this time he'd catch one. "What about Central Park? Or the Bronx Zoo?"

"Too far," Magnus declares with a wave of his hand. "And too big. You barely see anything in a few hours."

Alec takes a deep breath, not quite sure what to say. Before he can figure it out, Magnus adds, "Would it really be so terrible to walk around in the sunshine with me, looking at animals and watching the kids get excited every time something moves?"

"Fine," Alec says but he leans in and steals a chai-flavoured kiss in compensation.

***

They're both right. It is a zoo aimed at kids under ten, all brightly coloured signs and playgrounds and crowds of kids around every enclosure. But it's also a small zoo, easily walked around in a few hours, and it's kind of relaxing to spend the afternoon strolling in the sunshine. 

Magnus crowns the red pandas his favourites, and Alec can see the appeal. They're adorable and playful, and surprisingly graceful as they climb along narrow branches. The kids crowded around them are especially entranced by the panda sleeping on one of the high branches.

When Magnus asks him to choose a favourite, Alec shrugs and gives the answer he always gives. "The sheep."

"The sheep?" Magnus repeats doubtfully. "Why?"

"Because no one chooses the sheep." Alec finds himself telling Magnus about coming here as a kid, back when his parents were still married, long before Max was born. Back when it was him, Izzy, their mom and dad, and everyone loved the showy animals. The sea lions or baboons, the peacocks and the red pandas, even the prairie dogs and pallas cats. But Alec loved feeding the animals in the barn area, feeling the alpacas, pigs and sheep lick the food from his hands.

He waits for Magnus to tease him about it as Izzy would, to make some comment about picking the most boring animal in a zoo. But Magnus only smiles and says, "Let's go feed the sheep."

***

After the zoo, they walk back to Magnus' loft, stopping for burgers on the way. Right now, there are at least three things that Alec could be doing, but honestly, they can wait until Monday. Or at least Sunday afternoon. Alec doesn't want to say goodbye to Magnus any sooner than he has to.

"You know," Magnus says, sliding his hand down to catch Alec's fingers, "I didn't imagine you'd be good with kids."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw you talk to that little boy next to you. The one who looked like he wanted to cry when the alpaca came close. You were good with him."

Alec shrugs. It's not like he did anything amazing. He just reassured the kid that he wouldn't get bitten and showed him how easy it was to feed the animals. And maybe asked him what his favourite food was, and pointed out that he'd be nice if someone was giving him chocolate, so it made sense animals would be too. "Kids are easy. They say what they're thinking. They believe you're telling them the truth. They're fun."

Magnus looks at him carefully. "Do you want kids someday?"

"Of course. Don't you?"

"I gave up on it a long time ago," Magnus says, as if he's so much older than Alec. Alec hasn't asked, but he's pretty sure there's only a few years between them. At a stretch, Magnus might be thirty-four, maybe ten years older than him, but sometimes he talks as if he's seen centuries go past. 

"But--" Alec's weirdly disappointed at the idea that Magnus might not want a family eventually. Magnus wouldn't be the first guy Alec's dated who has no interest in children, and really, it's not as if Alec's had a relationship last long enough for children to be the issue they broke up over. "I know it's cliched, sure, but I don't see what's so wrong with wanting to fall in love, get married and have a family."

"There's nothing wrong with it," Magnus says gently, giving Alec's hand a brief squeeze. "If anything, there's something quite charming about knowing what you hope for in this life."

They fall silent for the rest of the walk back. For his part, Alec gets a little lost in his own thoughts, thinking about what Magnus said. He's never lacked ambition or determination. He's sometimes been misguided, like his first three years in college when he thought studying law would make him happy and stepping into his mom's shadow would make her proud. Then he realised he didn't find joy in it the way his mother does. He is very good at organising people and he prefers doing it from the shadows; event planning is the perfect combination of ruthless organising and never being the centre of attention. His mother had her doubts, but even she's realised that Alec is very good at what he does.

But family… he's always assumed that children would be in his future. Izzy shrugs and says she doesn't know yet so she's not ruling anything out. That's great for her but Alec has always known he wanted kids. He loves being a big brother and he thinks he'd be a good dad. Maybe he'd mess up, maybe he'd try too hard at the wrong things, but he'd love his kids and he'd make sure they knew that, and that's got to be the most important thing.

As Magnus pulls out his keys and unlocks the building's door, Alec asks, "Is there a reason you don't want to have kids?" From the stunned expression on Magnus' face, he hadn't been thinking about that at all.

"If you ever met my father, you would understand why I am a little leery of becoming a parental figure," Magnus says like it's a joke, but his dark eyes are too serious for that quick smile. "Children are always far more pleasant when you can give them back at the end of the night."

"But you miss out on all the fun things. Watching toddlers learn how to walk and sitting through school plays and telling bedtime stories."

"And what bedtime stories would you tell?"

Alec laughs. "Probably the same ones my abuela told me. Tales of the angel Raziel and his gifted warriors."

Magnus freezes with his hand on his door, spinning around to stare at Alec. "What?"

Holding his hands up in surrender, Alec explains, "Look, I know that makes us sound super religious, but we're not. They're just stories my grandmother used to tell me."

Magnus blinks at him, and then steps inside, holding the door open. "The angel Raziel? I'm tempted to ask what your grandmother's surname was."

"Trueblood," Alec says, confused. "My mother's maiden name. Why?"

"Curiosity," Magnus says, shrugging and hanging up his light linen jacket. "Would you like something to drink? Iced tea? Wine?"

Alec frowns. Magnus rarely suggests alcohol. "White, if you have it." 

Magnus usually doesn't drink, but he returns from the kitchen with two glasses of wine, and downs half of his in three large swallows. "I should have brought the bottle," he mutters, resting his glass on the coffee table. "Okay, tell me the stories."

"According to my abuela, the world used to be a terrifying place, full of demons who would eat naughty children whole. The angel Raziel came down from heaven and chose the most pious families, and he blessed them with strength and courage to fight the demons," Alec says, discomforted by how closely Magnus is watching him. "Are you okay?"

"I think I know this story," Magnus says, eyeing his wine glass but not reaching for it. "I just-- Go on. I haven't heard it in a while."

Alec tries to remember the way his grandmother would tell it. "As the angel chose warriors, the demons made their own monsters. Children of the moon, who grew claws and fur and hunted by moonlight. Children of the night, whose sharp teeth and deceiving eyes would lead you to death. Children of…" Alec sighs, annoyed at himself. "I can't remember. I know there were two more. One would draw you into strange forests and lie to you with the truth. The others could change the world around you on a whim. I think."

At the other end of the sofa, Magnus nods.

"My abuela passed away when I was ten, and Mom always thought these stories were nonsense, so I'm probably not telling it right." Alec can remember the weekends he spent at his grandmother's: how she smelled of lavender and freshly baked bread. How she would let them eat sweets before dinner and have a second serving of dessert. How she would let them stay up late and lie in her bed for stories. How she'd hold them, Izzy under one arm and Alec under the other, and tell these stories, embellishing more details every time Izzy asked questions. "Sometimes, she'd tell us about the angel's warriors and how they'd fight the monsters. There were a lot of dark forests and things jumping out from behind trees, and silver swords to slay the beasts. The best story was always how the demons were defeated, that the warriors prayed to the angel for help because the demons had become too strong to fight. The angel Raziel heard their prayers and gave them a choice. Heaven could seal the demons in hell, but it would come at the cost of the warriors' gifts."

Magnus snorts. "The cost was only to them," he mutters, reaching for his wine.

"What?"

Magnus shakes his head. "Go on. Forget I said anything."

"So the warriors chose to give up their strength and their weapons so that everyone could be safe. It's a pretty simple tale. Where did you hear it?"

"A long time ago," Magnus says, standing up with a graceful turn. "I need more wine."

The way Magnus tells the story is different. It's a little more artful, lilting sentences and leading pauses, told the way a bedtime story should be. In moments like this, Alec can see why Magnus is successful at what he does -- a successful tarot reader needs to know how to tell a good story. 

"It was long ago, when the world was full of magic. Magic is like the weather, some welcome, some unwanted. Sometimes it can be harnessed and directed, but sometimes it's destructive and beyond all control. There were mundanes, ordinary people who couldn't see or feel the magic but could still be hurt by its effects. There were the nephilim, the children of angels--"

"The chosen warriors?"

Magnus takes a breath, toying with his glass. It's still half full, but he seems to take some comfort in holding it. "Chosen because angel blood ran in their veins. The others were the same, werewolves and vampires, seelies and warlocks, people who had demon blood and were now more than mere humans."

"Vampires? They're the children of night? I thought they just talked you to death," Alec says, feeling embarrassed that he never put it together before. "There was no mention of bloodsucking in our stories."

Magnus laughs. "That might not have been suitable for little ears."

"Maybe not."

"Long ago, the demons attacked in great numbers and the nephilim defended the world. After a particularly brutal battle, the nephilim numbers were depleted, so they called on the angel Raziel to seal their world where the demons couldn't find them. The seelies felt the magic stir between worlds and fled to their own realm, leaving this one behind. The nephilim and the werewolves were mortals so without magic in the world, their children were born as mundanes, their history lost and faded into fairytales." Magnus takes a breath, placing the glass down on the coffee table. His tone softens, the story coming to a sad end. "Only the vampires and the warlocks remained, immortal as they are, but weaker without magic around them. Alone, with no one else to remember them, let alone understand them."

"They survived? The way my abuela told it, all the demons and monsters left with the angels. It was always the happy ending, you know? Now the world is safe, but remember if the demons ever come back, the naughty children will be eaten first."

"Ah," Magnus says, tilting his head and opening his eyes wide, "the time-old tradition of scaring children with the bogeyman."

"It works. I was a good kid. Best not to risk it, just in case."

"And your sister?"

"Izzy always said that if the demons did come back, they'd be in trouble." People forget this. That for all Izzy loves technology and science fiction, she loved martial arts first. Beneath the geeky t-shirts and the glasses, there's still the girl who had the confidence to believe she could defeat demons. "She said I'd never let anything bad happen to her, and together we'd kick their ass."

Magnus smiles but there's something not right. "I didn't know those old stories were still told." He sounds strangely sad about it.

"Only by my abuela. Mom always said it was nonsense."

Magnus turns on the couch and holds his hand out to Alec. It feels like the easiest thing in the world to lay his palm on Magnus, to feel that shock of warmth when they touch. "They're very old stories. Hundreds of years old. When it happ--" Magnus stops when _"Yellow Submarine"_ starts blaring out of Alec's phone.

"Sorry," Alec says, fumbling for his phone and turning the alarm off. "I had it set as a reminder so I didn't accidentally spend the night here."

"I'm not sure how offended I should be by that."

"Not in a bad way," Alec says. He's enjoyed spending the afternoon with Magnus but he knows he'll pay for it tomorrow. "I've got some stuff I need to do early tomorrow and my place is closer."

Magnus shrugs, accepting the explanation. "Do you have to leave now?"

"I could set it for an hour later." That would still give him time to get home and catch six hours of sleep before he has to get ready to travel out to Long Island to show the Andersens his ideas.

As soon as Alec changes the alarm setting and rests his phone on the table, Magnus leans over and runs a finger down Alec's cheek. "If I only have you for another hour, we should make the most of it," he says, drifting closer into an inevitable kiss.

When Alec's alarm goes off an hour later, he would swear they've only been kissing for ten minutes. His lips may be tingling and tender, and he might be breathing hard and very aware of his cotton shirt pulled tight across his chest, and the heat of Magnus' hand on his side, but it can't have been an hour. Not when Magnus is sucking at the hollow of his throat, leaving what might be a sizable hickey tomorrow. 

"Ignore it," Alec says, pulling Magnus up to kiss him. For a second, Magnus' eyes look gold, but it must be a trick of the reflected streetlights. When Alec blinks, Magnus' eyes are the same tempting deep brown they've always been.

Magnus kisses him once, twice, and then pulls back. "The Beatles are not helping the mood. And you have responsibilities in the morning."

Alec leans in for another kiss. "Sleep is overrated," he mutters, groaning when Magnus makes the kiss deep and dirty, sucking on his tongue in a way that goes straight to his cock. Alec kneads fingers into Magnus' shoulders, remembering how amazing Magnus looks shirtless.

"Beauty sleep is important." Magnus pulls back, bopping the end of Alec's nose with his index finger. Alec can't help staring at Magnus' reddened lips as he smiles. "Even for pretty boys like you."

Alec rolls his eyes, refusing to be flustered by the compliment. Standing up, he finally silences his phone. Magnus, being the good host that he is, walks Alec to the door and they spend another few minutes kissing goodnight. A quick peck that lingers, another and another, until he has Magnus pinned against the open doorway, arms holding each other close.

"Go, go," Magnus says breathlessly. "You're supposed to be leaving."

"Just one more kiss," Alec promises and then breaks that promise entirely.

***

"I'm busy," Alec says as he answers Izzy's call.

"Hi to you too. Is that really how you want to greet your only sister?"

"I've had sixteen hours sleep over the last three days," Alec replies, taking a moment to close his eyes and look away from his laptop. If he hadn't spent most of Saturday goofing off with Magnus he wouldn't be drowning in last-minute plans for Slater & Co. With the exception of sleep and the gym, he feels like he's spent every minute checking the new venue and getting licensing requirements sorted and changing the decor because what looks tastefully understated in a prewar ballroom will only look sad and tacky in a modern roof garden. He's still working on what sort of contingency he needs in place if any of the guests show up at the Plaza by mistake. "Make it quick, Izzy."

"I just wanted to give you the heads up. Mom's in town next week."

"I know. Unlike you, I remember to call Mom once a week. We're going out to Sandini's for dinner."

"Yeah, about that…"

Alec groans. It's a Pavlovian response to that optimistic tone, the way Izzy sounded when she said the dent on their father's car wasn't really noticeable, or asked if the vase in the hallway was expensive or just big. It's a tone that usually ends in Alec trying to help, despite the fact that any sensible person wouldn't. "What happened?"

"Mom was asking me about living with Simon, and how it was going, and if we were thinking of getting married, and I panicked."

"You threw me under the bus," Alec says, bitter and tired but not really angry. He's never been able to stay angry at Izzy; he usually doesn't even bother.

"I told her about Magnus." Izzy sounds apologetic, and he's sure she is sorry. "I didn't mean to. I just panicked and next thing I knew I was saying, did Alec tell you he's seeing someone new and it's been three months now, and I haven't met Magnus yet but I think Alec really likes him. I'm so sorry."

Alec slides back on his couch until he can stare up at the ceiling. It's an ugly popcorn ceiling and someday he will buy a place just so he doesn't have to live with ugly ceilings.

"Alec?" Izzy asks carefully. "Are you okay? You didn't, like, faint, did you?"

Alec sighs. "Are you asking me if I'm conscious?"

"Well, sarcasm. You can't be too upset."

"It's done now." It can't be undone and at the end of the day, it's not a disaster. It's just something he was hoping he could avoid for a while longer. "Good to have the forewarning that I'll be interrogated over dinner next week."

"Or you could invite Magnus," Izzy says brightly. "You know that'll stop Mom from asking any really embarrassing questions. She'll be too busy asking Magnus about his ten-year plan."

Alec snorts. "I'm not unleashing her on a guy who doesn't like me enough to sleep with me."

"Oh," Izzy says in surprise, and Alec already regrets saying anything. It's a familiar feeling. Someday he'll learn to think before he speaks. "Do you think that's what's going on?"

If Alec fobs Izzy off, she'll keep calling and then she'll come round, and she won't stop if she thinks something is really wrong. Telling her now will be the easiest option in the long run. "I was starting to think I'd misread it, that maybe Magnus was the curious straight guy who's now having second thoughts. But he mentioned an ex-boyfriend so it's not guys, it's just me."

Izzy doesn't say anything.

"We're only dating. And casual dating's fine, but he's… nice. He's kind and he's fun, and…" Alec shrugs, not that Izzy can even see him. He glances over at his kitchen, at the stupid sheep keychain that Magnus insisted on buying him. "I like him. But I can't help but think that if he liked me the same way, something more would have happened."

"Alec, you know I love you, right? But you have a switch that goes from off to on and there is no inbetween. Other people don't work like that. Maybe Magnus needs a little time to get there."

"It doesn't matter," Alec says because he doesn't want that. He doesn't want someone who needs time to get accustomed to him, someone who eventually decides settling for Alec Lightwood wouldn't be too bad. He wants that spark of lightning, that flash of desire the first time your eyes meet. That first impression of _who's that_ and _yes, please_. Is it too much to ask that someone feels like that about him?

" _Mi hermano_ , I just mean--"

"It's fine, Izzy. I'm tired, my inbox is trying to kill me, and everything seems dire right now. I'm sure after a good night's rest, it won't be a big deal."

***

Magnus looks good when he walks into the restaurant. He's wearing khakis and a chocolate brown shirt with a subtle sheen of pattern to it. He smiles when he sees Alec, and gestures with both hands as he says, "You would not believe the day I've had."

At any other time, Alec would find it charming. Endearing. But he's spent the last forty minutes sitting at this table with nothing more than a two word text from Magnus ("Running late!"). Right now, it's nothing but irritating. "Sit down and order."

Magnus blinks at him. "Excuse me?"

"Sit. Order. Then talk," Alec says, and he doesn't even bother pretending to smile. He pulls his own menu open and hopes the waitress will be here soon.

"Alexander, I don't appreciate your tone."

"And I don't appreciate you being forty minutes late when you insisted we go out tonight."

Magnus leans over the table, voice dropping lower. "Because you're busy on Friday and we're both busy this weekend. I don't think seeing my boyfriend once a week should be such a chore."

"I rearranged my night for this. Now, to borrow Simon's van for tomorrow, I have to drive him to a gig tonight." Alec grits his teeth against the anger rising in his chest. "So I have to leave here at nine-thirty. Which would not have been a problem if you'd been on time."

"I didn't know you had more important plans after our date," Magnus says with an edge to his words.

"Is it so unreasonable to expect the smallest amount of consideration from you?" The tone, the phrasing, it's as if his mother was standing in the room. Alec knows his temper and his tendency to lash out when cornered. He knows he needs to rein it in, but he can't help adding, "Is that asking too much?"

Magnus glares at him, chin tilting up dangerously. "You should apologize."

"You should show up on time." Alec glares at the closed menu in front of Magnus. "And you should order so we have time to eat."

Magnus stares at him and then pushes the menu away. "No, I won't be ordering. Congratulations, Alexander, you have some free time tonight," he says, standing up. He gives one graceful nod and then walks outside.

Leaving Alec sitting there, stunned. Angry and shocked, and… Fuck. What the hell just happened? Alec scrambles out of his seat and rushes after Magnus. He spots Magnus striding down the street, and jogs to catch up. 

He lands a hand on Magnus' shoulder, and Magnus spins around, hands up like his tai chi practice. He pulls himself back when he recognises Alec's but there's still a thump of impact in the centre of Alec's chest. It makes Alec wheeze but he grabs at Magnus' hand while he tries to catch his breath.

"Breathe," Magnus says gently, his hand still held against Alec's chest. There's a tingling sensation, a warm buzz of energy in his ribcage. Must be the after-effects of adrenalin, Alec thinks. "In and out, Alexander. That's it. Just breathe."

"Remind me not to catch you by surprise," Alec manages, only a little wheezy. 

Magnus' expression is a complicated mix of annoyance, concern and regret, and Alec understands it all too well. He's still a bit angry and for good reason, but any time the Lightwood temper comes out, Alec knows he's in the wrong somewhere. 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-- I lashed out and you didn't deserve that."

"No, I didn't."

Magnus doesn't apologise in turn. It's obvious that in his opinion he wasn't in the wrong. Maybe being late for a date wouldn't be such a big deal to someone who had more free time, someone who didn't spend that forty minutes on their phone, trying to dig through emails and send reminders to themselves. It occurs to Alec that maybe the problem isn't Magnus. Alec lets his gaze fall to the dirty pavement beneath their feet. Knowing what he should say doesn't make it easier. "Maybe we should take a break for a few weeks." Alec releases his hold on Magnus' wrists, and Magnus pulls his hand away.

"Is that what you want?" Magnus asks quietly, rocking back on his heels.

Alec can't look up at him and say this, so he keeps watching Magnus' brown boots, noting the way Magnus shifts his weight from foot to foot. "I am so busy over the next few weeks. Summer is always hectic for me, but this year is worse. I just don't have the time."

"To have a personal life?" Magnus asks sharply. "Is that your solution every year? Break things off when it gets inconvenient?"

It's funny how the fight leaves Alec all at once. He's spent so much effort trying to avoid this that it's almost a relief to let it happen. "Usually, my relationships have devolved into booty calls, and the sex is good enough to keep it limping along through September. I don't have time to date right now. I shouldn't have tried."

"Then why did you?" Magnus asks gently and Alec has to look up.

"Can't you feel it? This pull between us? I don't go around telling everyone about my childhood and my family and things that are important to me. I'm pretty sure I've dated guys who didn't know how many siblings I have. It's different with you. I trust you."

Magnus steps closer, curving his palm around Alec's cheek. "I feel it."

Alec doesn't know what to do with that. He glances at the buildings around them, the Brooklyn street mostly quiet in the dark. Closing his eyes, he rests his cheek in Magnus' hand. "I still don't have enough time. I'm sorry. I know other people don't get it, I know it seems silly, but it's important to me. I like what I do and I do it well, but I just don't have any spare time right now."

"At all?"

"Unless you're willing to move dates to eleven o'clock and be prepared for me to fall asleep standing up at midnight." It's so tempting to keep his eyes closed, but that's not an option. He needs to go over to Izzy's, he needs to drive Simon to his gig; he needs to drive out to the storage unit and get decorations for tomorrow so he doesn't spend an extra hour in workday traffic. He needs to drive Simon home after the gig, and then he needs to check his emails and make sure there's no last minute catastrophes. But first… Alec opens his eyes and steps away. "I really am sorry, Magnus."

Magnus bites at his lower lip, internally debating something. Then he asks, "Can I help?"

"Why would you want to?"

"Because it sounds like the only way I'm going to see you around your crazy work schedule is to make myself a part of it." Magnus grins as if volunteering free labour is a perfectly reasonable solution here. "Be aware that help, in this case, might be witty comments and emotional support rather than actual heavy lifting."

"Are you sure?" Alec asks warily. Things that sound too good to be true usually aren't.

"As it happens, I'm free tonight."

Alec nearly tells him not to bother. Nearly says it's fine, he can do it on his own, there's no need for both of them to be tired tomorrow. But Magnus offered and the offer is too good to refuse. "Any chance you know how to drive?"

"No," Magnus says, "but I am excellent at finding a parking spot."

***

With the two of them, it takes less than an hour to get everything packed. Despite Magnus' disclaimer, he actually does roll his shirtsleeves up to his elbows and help carry boxes out to the van. Alec's so distracted by the muscles on those tanned forearms he nearly packs box twelve instead of box fifteen. He has to cover it by checking the holes on his shelves match the boxes he should have in the van.

Magnus watches it all with a faint air of amusement. "You are a very organised soul, Alexander."

"How do you find things if you don't keep everything ordered?"

"And how could you keep things ordered," Magnus raises a hand and taps the laminated diagram hanging from the shelf, "without a precise map?"

"Sometimes Raj does the storage runs," Alec mutters, checking the list in his phone one last time. "Without a diagram, he'll put any box on any shelf. It's a numerical system. It's not hard."

Alec doesn't mention the spreadsheet on his laptop detailing decorations by type, colour, applicable themes and storage box number. It's the details that make a party look amazing, and knowing exactly what you already have can save a lot of time and money. But there's nothing sexy about accurate record keeping and organised filing.

"I speak from a place of admiration. I struggle to keep my place from falling into utter chaos," Magnus says lightly. He walks over to Alec, looking over Alec's shoulder at the completed list. "So what's next on your itinerary?"

"I have to pick Simon up from his gig but he doesn't finish until twelve. Do you want me to drop you home, or we could see the end of Simon's show?"

"I have a much better idea," Magnus says, staring at Alec's mouth.

Alec fights the urge to grin. "There are far more romantic places than an empty storage unit in the middle of the night. These fluorescents aren't doing anyone any favours." It's a lie. Magnus would be gorgeous under any lighting.

"Such a sweet talker," Magnus murmurs, leaning closer and waiting for Alec to meet him halfway. It's not romantic but it feels so good to close his eyes and lose himself. Just a simple kiss, just lips and mouths, and Magnus' hands on his waist, holding him steady. The smell of sandalwood and dust and stale air. The hard walls echo back every sound they make. Every rustle of clothes, and wet slide of lips, every quiet gasp or moan.

At least until they're interrupted by Alec's alarm again.

"Yellow Submarine?" Magnus asks, stepping back and rubbing his thumb across his wet lips. "Again?"

"It's too annoying to ignore." Alec shoos Magnus outside, sliding down the door and locking it behind them. "Are you sure you don't want me to drop you first? Simon's…"

"Not your favourite person?" Magnus brushes fingers over his hair, settling everything back into place. "Your minimal conversation gave it away."

"He's my sister's boyfriend and he's good to her, so…"

"So?"

"I don't like him," Alec says, unlocking the van and getting in. "But if the zombie apocalypse hits tomorrow, I'm going to have to make sure he survives it."

"So you were listening!" Magnus crows. Of course he'd listened to what Simon was telling Magnus in the backseat of the van. Just because he listened didn't mean he had to give an opinion on something so stupid. Magnus shrugs, adding, "If I'm honest, that was not the strangest conversation I've had with a perfect stranger. In the top five, but not the strangest."

"He's even worse after a show," Alec warns, but Magnus laughs it off. 

When he's trapped in the backseat with Simon talking a mile a minute, he looks less amused. "And is there a reason you're not sitting in the front of the van?" Magnus asks politely, and Alec's pretty sure it's a secret plea for help.

"I'm scared Alec might kill me," Simon says, all over-eager smiles and bright eyes. Apparently, the show went very well. "Not his driving. You know, he's a great driver, trust him with my life but more his general… Alec-ness. If I talked too much from the passenger seat, he might be tempted to strangle me and that would crash the van. And it would make Izzy sad. So I usually ride in the back when Alec drives."

Magnus blinks, not yet immune to Simon's constant talking. "That might be for the best."

"Hey, I never asked," Simon says, which could lead to literally anything. "How did you meet Alec?"

"Izzy tried to sneak him onto my guest list for the Institute anniversary party," Alec says sharply, signalling a left turn.

"Clary invited me," Magnus says, not looking at all ashamed at being caught gatecrashing.

"Oh, yeah. She said you gave her a tarot reading and she was so impressed she wanted you to do a reading for her dad, but that's a little sketchy for Clary," Simon says, nodding at his own logic. "If you ask me, it was a setup. Clary and Izzy tried to get you in because a certain someone would run screaming from a blind date, and they wanted to introduce you two somehow."

"I am literally sitting three feet from you," Alec growls. "I can hear what you're saying."

"But you can't reach me," Simon says, "And you know Izzy has been trying to set you up with a nice guy for ages."

"I'm perfectly capable of dating without Izzy's help."

"Yeah," Simon says, and then leans over to Magnus, voice dropping to a whisper so loud Alec hears every word, "but he always dates douches. He's a walking douche-o-meter."

"I will pull this van over and throw you out of it," Alec promises darkly. In the backseat, Magnus laughs but Simon swallows nervously.

"Okay, change of topic! We're having your Mom over for dinner next week. On a scale of one to never, when do you think your Mom's going to stop asking about my back-up plans if this 'music thing' doesn't 'pan out'?" Simon even uses air-quotes.

"When do you think your sister will stop acting like Izzy stole you from Clary?"

"Hey! That's not what happened," Simon says, and then turns to Magnus and babbles, "That's not what happened at all. Clary and I are best friends, and sure, maybe there was a stage in high school where she grew curves and I spent a lot of time wanting to kiss her, but we totally grew past that. I mean, there was that week after junior prom where we tried to make it work, but it just went incredibly weird. We were both happy to go back to being friends after that."

"Mm-hmm," Magnus says, brows high and silently judgmental.

"So there is history there but it's totally misguided, and Izzy knows that, whereas your Mom doesn't let up. Every time I see her she asks, like she's just waiting for me to screw up."

Alec doesn't have to explain his mom to Simon. His mother is intelligent and independent, and she would appreciate some sign that when Simon thinks about the future, that he's thinking further than next week. He's certainly not going to tell Simon that musicians don't have a reputation for faithfulness on the road, and since Alec's dad left his Mom after having an affair for eight years, there's a reason she'd want to protect her daughter from the same thing. "Maybe she's hoping you'll think about it and come up with a contingency plan."

"You think?" Simon turns to Magnus. "What do you think? Outside perspective?"

Magnus gives a distracted sigh. "I think Alexander is extremely hot when he's threatening bodily harm." 

***

"I can't believe you introduced your boyfriend to Simon before me," Izzy says, telegraphing her right hook far too early. It's been a while since he's been on the mats but she doesn't need to take it so easy on him. His body remembers the moves.

"It's Simon," Alec says, ducking and jabbing in reply. Alec only came down this morning to help Izzy with some partner drills since her friend couldn't make it. Another jab and a cross, and Izzy grins when she has to weave quickly to avoid contact. "Simon doesn't count."

Izzy telegraphs another right hook, but then kicks forward; Alec leans back and she barely makes contact with his thigh. "Simon is an excellent judge of character."

"So?"

"So he liked Magnus," Izzy says, swinging a roundhouse kick at Alec's ribs. Alec raises his knee to shield against the hit, and uses his greater reach to swing a left hook into her shoulder. "He thinks you're cute together."

Alec rolls his eyes at the thought, and only just blocks Izzy's jab-jab-side kick combo. "The feeling is not mutual," he bites back, and then focuses on his form. He's already out of breath, gym top starting to stick to him. These days, he's used to running and weights, used to exercise being a quiet, solitary activity where he can focus on a goal and achieve it in peace. But he hasn't seen Izzy in the last week and this way, he can multitask: spend time with his sister and get a good workout in.

"I'd take offence at that, if I didn't know you secretly liked him." A pushkick and a roundhouse, and Alec blocks both of them but he's getting slower.

"No, I don't." Alec pushes forward, using blocks and elbow strikes to force Izzy on the defensive. As kids, she'd always tap out if she got trapped in a corner and his muscles remember fighting that way. It was years ago, before Alec towered over her and before Izzy realised speed and leg strength were two of her greatest assets.

"Yes," Izzy says, grinning and jabbing. "You do." She goes for a right hook but misses, a few inches short of Alec's raised forearms, and then she sweeps her right leg from behind Alec, knocking him off his feet. Alec lands on his back on the mats, winded but not hurt.

"That was impressive," he says, taking a chance to flop against the floor and get his breath back.

"I've learned new moves since we were kids." Izzy holds out a hand to help him up, her dark braid hanging over her shoulder as she leans down. "Ready to go again?"

"Water first." Alec finds his bottle and wipes the sweat off his face. "Also, I don't like Simon."

"Yeah, but you dislike him less than you dislike everyone else."

"Is that supposed to make sense?"

Izzy gives him a look as she stretches her arms in front of her. "You don't like anyone. I mean it. Name one person you like."

"You."

"Name one person who isn't family."

Magnus is the first name that springs to mind, but Alec isn't going to say that. "Raj?"

"You've worked with him for three years and he still annoys you."

"That's because Raj can be annoying," Alec bites back, and Izzy snorts.

"You are private, reserved, and judgemental. And I love you for everything you are, but you don't like people. There are some people you really hate, but Simon you just mildly dislike, so that's virtually approval. You like him," Izzy says, pinching her fingers together and holding them in front of Alec's face, "just a little bit."

"Not even a tiny, microscopic bit."

Izzy's smile is bright and victorious. "You get him gigs whenever his sound works for a party you're organising."

"I want you to be able to make rent. That has nothing to do with him." Izzy keeps staring at him, until Alec rolls his eyes. "Another round?"

"Not until you admit you like Simon."

Alec could leave it there. He's sweated enough that he won't feel guilty for skipping today's run. But he was having fun. "I like that he's good to you."

"Close enough," Izzy says, and lowers her centre of gravity as she raises her arms. "First to three wins?"

***

To be honest, Alec's mostly forgotten about the purple bruise across his jaw until Magnus sees it on Monday afternoon. "When I asked if you were okay, did I need to specify mentally, emotionally and physically?" Magnus asks with obvious concern. "What happened?"

"I over-extended and Izzy got a lucky punch." He leans in and presses a brief kiss to Magnus' lips, before leading him inside his apartment. "Looks worse than it feels."

"You were doing this in a gym, right? I don't need to be concerned about abusive sibling relationships?"

Alec can't help but laugh at the idea. "In a gym, yes. It was fun to mix it up a bit, but I'm out of practice. Not that I'm admitting that to Izzy." There are pale, rainbow stacks of paper across the coffee table and on the floor, but he's kept the couch clear so they can both sit down. When Magnus asked what he was doing, Alec had told him honestly: stuffing envelopes because event planning is even less glamorous than it appears. Magnus had been the one to offer to come over and keep him company.

"Have you seen a doctor? Is there any chance it's fractured?"

"It was one punch. We'd taken our gloves off and she was demonstrating a move, and I leaned too far forward so we connected. Luckily, Izzy mostly works from home so she doesn't have to explain bruised knuckles to anyone."

"Fortunate," Magnus says with a quick grimace. "Have you considered reiki healing?"

"Paying some sham artist to wave hands over me and declare me fixed?"

Magnus' fingers clasp and twist together. "Some people find it speeds healing to align your chi."

Alec has a horrifying moment of remembering that his boyfriend reads tarot cards for a living. He genuinely advertises psychic readings. He probably believes in crystals and chi and all those other things that Alec can't see or touch, that can't be proved by scientific research. "That's good. That it works for some people. But I'm not rushing out to find someone to align my chakras."

"I could do it," Magnus says softly, like he's not even sure that he wants to offer. "If you trust me, I could do it now."

From the way Magnus swallows, he's feeling self-conscious and a little vulnerable about this, so Alec isn't going to laugh and refuse. Alec might not believe that waving your hands over someone makes any difference, but it couldn't make anything worse. "Do you need… anything specific?"

"A calm space to lie down."

"Will the floor do?" Alec asks, because he's not inviting Magnus into his bedroom. There's a week's laundry that he hasn't put away yet, and he hasn't made his bed, and last night he was so tired he ate in bed and left dishes stacked on his bedside table. It's a terrible first impression.

"Sure. We can just use the throw pillow from the couch."

Alec lies down, trying not to feel weird and overthink it, not when Magnus already looks like he'd secretly like to flee. Magnus takes off his cardigan, throwing it over the arm of Alec's couch, and then gracefully folds to his knees beside Alec. Feeling a little exposed, Alec looks away. His ceiling is even uglier from this angle.

"The first step is to close your eyes," Magnus says gently.

Alec frowns. "Why?"

"To focus inwardly. To visualise the healing process." Which makes sense. It's like athletes visualising a race to help them perform better. Alec takes a breath and shuts his eyes. He can hear traffic outside and the downstairs neighbours watching TV. When he swallows it sounds loud in his own ears.

There's a warmth above his forehead. Magnus doesn't touch him, but Alec can track how his hands move slowly over his temples and down his cheeks by the heat emanating from his palms. It's a slow, circular movement over his face, along his jaw and hovering over his chin. When Alec breathes out he can feel the warm air rebound against his lips. Magnus glides his hands down Alec's neck and along his collarbones. He can't feel the heat through his polo shirt but he swears Magnus pauses longer over his right clavicle, the one he broke at seventeen.

The warmth moves back up his neck, up and over his jaw, and his cheeks. The heat of Magnus' hands is soothing on the back of his eyelids, and then Magnus moves to his hairline and starts the cycle again. It's relaxing. For something so intangible, something that really isn't anything, it's amazing how soothing it feels. Every time Magnus's hands pass over Alec's bruise, the skin somehow feels more sensitive. There's almost a tingle to it, like standing under a hot shower and feeling tense muscles relax. He feels the same tingle in his collarbone, a low spreading warmth that lingers even after Magnus' hands have moved on.

Alec loses track of time. There's nothing but the quiet and the dark and the safe warmth of Magnus' skin so close to his. He lets himself relax. Allows the tension to bleed out of his forehead and his jaw, lets his shoulders and hips sink into the floor. He feels his spine stretch and release, his legs and arms too heavy to move. He drifts like this until Magnus murmurs his name.

"Alexander?" Magnus' voice is barely above a whisper, so reassuring Alec wonders if he fell asleep. "Come back to me. We're all done here."

"That," Alec says, but his voice is jarringly loud. He softens his tone. Keeps his eyes closed. "That felt really good. Thank you."

"I'm glad. It's been longer than I care to admit since I've done that." There's a pause, then Magnus adds, "I'd forgotten how intimate that can feel."

"Yeah, it's…" Alec shakes his head. He doesn't know how he'd describe it. When he blinks his eyes open, his apartment feels too bright. "Just a pity I've got to get up and get back to work."

Magnus rises to his feet like a cobra standing up for a snakecharmer. For the second time in as many days, someone's standing over him, offering a hand to help him up. "While this goes against your excellent work ethic, can I suggest a few minutes to lie down on the sofa? It will help."

Alec frowns at the couch, trying to work out if this sudden tiredness would be better or worse after a ten minute powernap. He's usually cranky and groggy after a nap -- it's why he avoids them -- but right now he's so tired that keeping his eyelids open is an effort. Then Magnus sits on one end of the couch with a throw cushion on his lap. He pats the space beside him and stares at Alec beseechingly. "Just a few minutes?"

Alec should grit his teeth and push through the tiredness, but instead he kicks off his shoes and walks over to the couch. With his head in Magnus' lap, he can curl his knees up until only his shins are hanging over the armrest. "Just a few minutes," he mumbles, as Magnus runs his fingers through Alec's hair.

***

Alec raises his arm across his face, hiding from the light. Groaning, he tries to roll away but instead of finding a pillow to hide under, Alec's reaching hand lands on a solid… body? Alec scowls up into the daylight and finds Magnus' amused face looking down at him. "Whzz?" Alec grumbles and Magnus laughs.

It's such a bright, joyous sound. Alec nearly manages a smile in return.

"What time is it?" Alec manages, squinting around him. There's a yellow square of daylight painted across the wall, so it must be close to sunset. "Did I sleep the whole afternoon? Your legs must be asleep."

"It's nearly seven," Magnus says, eyes still crinkled in enjoyment, "so yes but I'm fine. Also, you needed the rest."

Alec yawns and sits up, stretching. He actually feels pretty good. A bit lethargic, but he hates the world a little less than he usually does when he first wakes up. "Did you have plans for dinner?"

"Vietnamese takeout, and then you can explain what all these lovely bits of coloured paper are." Magnus waves at the pastel piles spread across the coffee table, fingers dancing on the air.

"Location and theme announcements for the Sapphire Ball. Tradition says it goes out a week before the party, and everyone is honour-bound not to mention the details online until the party starts." Alec leans forward, hooking his hands behind his back and stretching his shoulders back. He curls up, holding the stretch until it feels good. "A little bit of mystery and secret-keeping helps the ticket sales."

"And you're mailing out all of these?"

"It's putting paper into envelopes. It's not hard. I would have got Raj to do it but with Andersen's party on Saturday, his days are already full."

"I'm not sure there's much point having an underling if you still have to work overtime," Magnus says, leaning over to the coffee table and pulling out one of the invitations. They're printed on a range of colours -- powder pink, apricot, lemon, mint green, duck egg blue and lavender -- but they all say the same thing. "Think summer parties and ice cream," Magnus reads aloud, "think confetti and cotton candy, and wear your pastels to the Park Slope Library for a magical night. That's very evocative, Alexander."

Alec shoots him an unimpressed glance. "It's a party. It's supposed to be fun."

"It sounds lovely. Honestly." Magnus waves the slip of pale green paper and then sets it back down on the pile. "I just think that next time, maybe you should try to schedule your clients better. Whoever's paying you for this couldn't be paying you enough."

"Oh, no-one's--" Alec stops and then realises he has to end that sentence with the truth. "Um, paying me. This isn't a job."

"Pro bono?"

"More like a fundraiser."

Magnus turns to Alec, looking far too curious. The dying sunlight catches on his black hair, along his cheekbone and the cupid's bow of his lip. He's gorgeous. "Are you trying to be coy?"

"No," Alec says, because no-one has ever called Alec Lightwood coy or demure. It's ridiculous that he's skirting around this. He started the Sapphire Ball, and it's become a successful annual event. He lists it on LinkedIn. He is not shy about his accomplishments, but there's a difference between announcing a professional achievement and telling Magnus why he gives up sleep every year to make it work. "There's a Brooklyn charity for homeless queer teens. Izzy found out about it when she was a freshman in college. I was in my final year of pre-law and organised the first Sapphire Ball to raise enough funds to fight an eviction notice. Everybody had to dress in blue, hence the name, and it was students and every second person was wearing jeans, but we raised enough money to help."

"You must care a great deal about the cause to put such effort into it," Magnus says, and Alec can feel the unasked question hanging there. The assumption that says he's gay and supports a fundraiser for homeless youth, so he must have his own terrible coming out story to share. "What's that face for?"

"People assume that the only reason you'd care about something is because you've lived it. So before you ask, no, there is no tragic homophobic trauma fueling a desire to see kids sleep safely at night." Alec hates that assumption; he hates the way people look at his family, and assume hispanic parents must be religious and old-fashioned and bigoted. His father has always been gentle-hearted, accepting his children exactly as they are. His mother has always demanded the best from them, wanted to see them prove themselves and succeed, but she accepts them doing it on their own terms. "The worst thing that happened to me was a bit of teasing as a kid, and that did not end well for the other boy."

"Yeah?"

"I was ten and there was a kid in my karate class, Preston. He was a mean kid who hated me because he was jealous. Because our teacher praised my form and technique. Technically, I was better than him but he was a year older, he was taller and stronger, and he didn't like me. So every time we fought, he'd beat the crap out of me." Alec shrugs and some twisted sense of honour makes him add, "Not that I ever gave up easily. If I'd just tapped out, I wouldn't have walked away bruised every time."

"So even an itty bitty Alexander was stubborn?"

"Determined," Alec corrects. "It's a virtue."

"If you say so," Magnus says with bright sarcasm.

"Basically, we hated each other and he'd always hang back in the locker room to insult me and try to put me off. When he called me a fag, I didn't even know what that meant, I just knew it had to be something terrible from the way he said it. But one day, my mother heard him say it," Alec says, and he can't help but smile. "After class, she sat me down in her study, like this was important, like this was getting a B on a test, and she asked what else Preston said."

"Did she call his parents?"

Alec nearly laughs. Anyone who knows his mother wouldn't ask that. "No. First, she told me what the insult meant and the correct words to use. And then she said, 'When you grow up, it doesn't matter who you fall in love with, if it's a boy or a girl. What matters is that you are a Lightwood and nobody treats a Lightwood like that.' And then she taught me how to throw my elbow and break his nose."

Tilting his head, Magnus looks askew at him, like he can't decide whether to be amused or shocked. "Surely you didn't…?"

"Yep. Next class. His mom complained that it was an illegal move and I got suspended for a week, but it was worth it. He wasn't so keen to fight me after that."

"I think I'm both in awe and a little bit terrified of your mother."

"If you want to meet her in person, she's in town this week. We're going out for dinner on Wednesday."

"As delightful as that offer sounds," Magnus says, tapping the back of Alec's hand, "I am positive I'm double-booked that night."

***

Anyone who saw his mother and Izzy together would have no doubt they're related. The same dramatic dark hair, the same deep brown eyes and the same warm skin tone; the same generous figures and the same attention-grabbing smiles. The surface similarities are obvious. But where his mother will wear stilettos, a closely tailored dress and blazer, Izzy will wear loose jeans, an ironic t-shirt and heavy-soled boots. Where their mother refuses to step out the door without mascara, eyeliner and lipstick as a bare minimum, Izzy only wears chapstick unless it's a very special occasion.

But they're both passionate and intelligent. They both care deeply about their jobs and the people they love. And they're both ruthless and scarily encouraging when it comes to Alec's love life.

"I can't believe you introduced your boyfriend to Simon before your own mother."

"Izzy's already complained about this." On the good side, at least they got halfway through the meal before his mother broached the topic. "We borrowed Simon's van and he happened to need a ride home. That's all."

His mother sizes him up like a lion would look at a limping gazelle, or how she'd view the opposition's counsel. "How long have you been seeing him?"

"Not long enough to introduce him to family," Alec says but his mother only looks questioningly at him. "Since June."

"And it's going well?"

"Great," Alec says, but it's a little too fast. He can see the suspicious gears start turning in his mother's head. "So far, we're even managing my busy schedule."

His mother smiles and takes a dainty bite of her risotto. "Tell me about him." It's not a request, it's an order.

"His name is Magnus. He lives in Brooklyn. He was born in Indonesia. He reads tarot cards and does well enough that he owns his own loft."

"That would make an excellent introduction on a reality show. Succinct." His mother takes another bite, taking her time as she chews gracefully. "Will I like him?"

"More than Simon," Alec says sharply, and his mother sends him a disapproving yet amused frown. "You would, if you got to know him. He's… tender." That makes him sound like a piece of meat. "He's cautious," Alec tries instead and that doesn't sound any better.

"Tender and cautious. He sounds like a very--" His mother pauses, and it's definitely done for effect. "-- safe option."

"What's wrong with safety?"

"It's unusual for you. But there's no reason why you shouldn't date someone… easy for a while. After all, the way your business has grown in the last two years is very impressive." He's twenty-four, but he still sits a little straighter when his mother smiles at him and says, "I'm very proud of what you've achieved."

Alec tries not to grin too widely at the compliment. "And you? How's work?"

"Going well," his mother says, and then tells him about the latest case she tore to shreds in front of a judge. The sharply enthusiastic way she tells the story reminds Alec of how Izzy looks when she talks about landing the perfect roundhouse kick or solving the latest piece of difficult coding. It's probably how Alec looks when he talks about getting the colour scheme and lighting exactly right.

***

Magnus opens his door looking fantastic. He's dressed for the heat: neatly pressed linen shorts and a warm brown shirt that cuts right across his biceps. There's a faint shimmer of bronze along the collar and the shoulders, a subtle peekaboo hint of embroidery. "You look amazing," Alec says, leaning in for a kiss.

"Thank you," Magnus murmurs against his lips before a soft kiss hello. "I only wish I could say the same."

"Hey," Alec objects, frowning at the too accurate insult. "I was up until five clearing up after the Andersen event. I deserve points for showing up today."

"Yes, you do. But now I'm reconsidering our plans. Dragging you around a new gallery might not be a good idea."

"What? No, it's great. If we're walking around, I can't fall asleep." It's a joke but Magnus doesn't seem to find it funny. "Whatever you want to do. I've got the rest of the day off since I can't use Simon's van until tomorrow."

"What would you like to do?" Magnus asks, and the first thought that pops into Alec's head is to take Magnus to bed. Not even for sex. Right now, he'd be happy just to fall asleep holding Magnus' hand. Although if sex was an option... The thought must show on Alec's face because Magnus looks intrigued. "What is it?"

Alec steps closer, hooking two fingers between the buttons of Magnus' shirt. "It's a very hot day. Perhaps I could help get you out of this."

"I think you'd fall asleep in the middle of kissing me," Magnus says, drifting closer.

Alec glances down at Magnus' smile, the tempting curve of those lips. "Not possible," he says, giving in and kissing Magnus. A hand curls around his neck, blunt fingernails scratching through his hair as their mouths meet again and again. Shallow kisses to start and then Magnus nips at his lower lip, and Alec's startled into groaning. 

For a second, Magnus pulls back and looks him in the eye, this intense moment of really seeing him, and then Magnus dives back into the kiss, arm cinching around Alec's waist. Alec slides his hands down from Magnus' shoulders, digging his fingers into the exposed muscle of Magnus' arms. It only makes Magnus kiss him deeper, crowding into him until there isn't an inch between them. 

It's too hot for this. Alec can feel a bead of sweat dripping down his spine, but he can't help pressing closer. Pushing into the firm heat of Magnus' body, feeling the strength there as Magnus pulls him closer. Alec twists his head away, needing to breathe, and Magnus drops his head, sucking tingling kisses to Alec's collarbone.

Alec's not used to losing himself like this. He's felt attraction and desire, fondness even, but Magnus sparks something in him. It's like a rollercoaster, a build of anticipation and then the breathless rush of holding Magnus close and always Magnus leaves him wanting more.

"Magnus, Magnus," Alec gasps, lost in it, drowning. "We have to stop. If you don't wanna-- If you don't want to go further, we have to stop. Fuck." He does not want to talk Magnus out of this, he doesn't, but it'll kill him if Magnus shies away when it gets really good.

Magnus loosens his hold but he doesn't step back. He stands up tall and leans his forehead against Alec's, breath coming fast and unsteady. Alec has to close his eyes against the intimacy of it, against how desperately he wants this man.

"Alexander," Magnus sighs, and Alec can feel Magnus' breath on his skin. "We do need to talk."

Alec has to breathe and force his hands to let go. He waits until Magnus steps back before he opens his eyes. "Okay."

"Perhaps we should sit," Magnus says, waving a hand at the sofa. Where Alec has spent hours kissing him, wondering if it would be gauche to simply climb over and straddle Magnus' lap.

Alec nods. He can do this. He can listen to whatever Magnus has to say without spending the whole conversation remembering making out with Magnus. "Sure."

It seems very telling that Magnus sits at the very furthest edge of the couch. "When we talked about the angel Raziel, I already knew those stories. I'd lived them," Magnus says, as if that makes any sense.

"What?"

"The warlocks were known as the children of Lilith. They had demon parentage. They were magical but not quite human."

Alec still doesn't understand the point of this story, but he nods anyway.

"There was always a mark, something small but something no human would have. Some way to tell that they…" Magnus shrugs, looking upset and Alec thinks he gets it. "Were… different."

"They didn't fit in," Alec says carefully, "even when it looked like they should? And everyone could tell?"

"Yes!" Magnus beams at him, his whole face so sweetly joyous that Alec feels justifiably proud of himself. "But they were immortal and they were magic. They could do things no one else could even imagine. I'm a warlock, Alexander."

Alec can see why. "I get it."

Magnus blinks at him, utterly bamboozled. "You do?"

"Yeah. You're amazing, even if you're different from the ordinary people around you. It's a good metaphor."

Again, Magnus blinks at him. "It wasn't a metaphor," he says finally.

"Allegory, parable, whatever." Alec shrugs; the definition isn't important.

"I meant it literally," Magnus says seriously, and Alec has to laugh.

"There is no part of you that is even the slightest bit of demon." Alec leans across the couch to catch Magnus' hand and hold it gently. "And I am sorry if anyone convinced you that the things that make you different, the things that make you stand out, the things that make you amazing are somehow wrong. They're not. Anyone who doesn't see that doesn't deserve you."

Magnus presses a hand against his own mouth, and for a moment, Alec worries he's going to cry.

"I mean it, Magnus," Alec says, trying to fix things, "you're amazing. Every part of you."

"You must be the sweetest man born in the last century," Magnus says, strange and wonderful. He looks away and stands up, waving at Alec to follow him. "Now, up. I think a nice air conditioned gallery would be best right now."

***

"What do you know about concussions?"

"Hello, Alec," Izzy says pointedly. Alec rolls his eyes; this is the reason he likes FaceTime. "Should I be worried?"

"It's not me. It's Raj."

Izzy's dark brows are especially dramatic when she tilts her head down and raises them over her glasses. "Should I be worried?"

"He tripped over his bathtub. He sprained his ankle and got a mild concussion." Alec looks around the street, wondering if he should hail a cab or if the subway would be quicker at this hour. "So what do you know?"

"I'm not a doctor."

"You have suffered and inflicted the most injuries of anyone I know. Are you really telling me you don't know anything about concussions?"

"Lots of rest in dark rooms. No reading, no screens, no big stresses while the brain recovers." Izzy looks concerned, glancing away from the screen. "Tell me you're not forcing him to keep working?"

"Of course not. He's on sick leave." Screw it. Alec raises a hand to flag down a cab. Even if it takes longer, at least he'll be comfortable. "I just wanted to be sure I couldn't get him to do any of this."

"Alec," Izzy asks, face crumpling in worry, "isn't the Sapphire Ball this week? Are you--"

"It's fine," Alec bites back as a cab slows in front of him. "It's going to be fine."

***

By Thursday, Alec is ready to set fire to everything. Everything. He feels like he's spent the week collecting things from suppliers and hauling them across town like he's training to become a mover. He's fielding calls from new clients (which is great, he knows. Having someone call out of the blue and say they attended the party he organised for the Institute, and they have a corporate event coming up in November, let's discuss options. It says good things about the work and it's excellent for his advertising budget, but he's so sick of taking names and numbers and saying, "Mr Lightwood has space on his calendar next week. Let's schedule a meeting."). He's called the venue and the caterers to make sure everything's confirmed. He's checking ticket sales (there's always last minute emails asking for a ticket even though the deadline was two weeks ago) and drawing up layout diagrams so he knows where the dance floor will be and the buffet and where he can fit seated tables in case people need to sit, where the bar will be and where he needs a clear path to his exits in case of emergency.

He's also reviewing the budget. The trouble is he runs the Sapphire Ball on a shoestring budget to start with. It's balancing on a tightrope between appearing cheap and wasting money that would otherwise be used to give someone's kid a safe place to sleep at night. Usually, he and Raj push through it with a lot of grumbling and complaining, moving like a well oiled and angry machine. But try as he might, Alec can still only be in one place at one time and while the library is letting him store supplies, he only has access to the event space ninety minutes before the party starts and setup takes time.

He might have to call Lydia. Ask if she can spare a few employees for a couple hours. He doesn't want to pay the wages but he physically can't move tables in, set the tables, attach the decorations, set-up the lighting and sound system, and oversee the caterers setup. Not on his own, and not within ninety minutes.

When his phone rings, he picks it up without looking. "What?" Alec barks because it's nine at night, and if the florist is calling to rearrange the delivery window again, if he has to find time tomorrow to trek down and collect the centerpiece bouquets, he might just kill someone.

"Did I call at a bad time?" Magnus asks.

"All time is bad," Alec mutters, and for some reason, Magnus laughs. "Why are you calling?"

"Well, it's Thursday night."

"And tomorrow is Friday. What of it?"

"Dinner?"

Alec scowls at his coffee table. Izzy does this too, nags him to eat when he's stressing out about something. As if remembering to eat is another thing he's failing at. "I'm not hungry. I'll eat later."

Magnus is silent. It's strange enough that it catches Alec's attention and makes him stop staring at the fire exit diagram in his hands. "Magnus?" Alec asks carefully.

"We had dinner plans." Magnus doesn't sound annoyed. He doesn't sound much of anything. Alec has no idea how to read his tone.

"No, we weren't seeing each until--" Thursday, Alec realises. Fuck. He stood Magnus up. "Were you waiting long?"

There's no good answer to the question. Either Magnus wasted an hour waiting for him and is now rightfully furious; or he waited ten minutes and gave up on Alec, had already worked out not to expect anything better from him. Both options are terrible in their own way. "Look," Alec says, knowing too well that excuses never justify a mistake, "that Ethiopian place will still be open. How about we meet there in twenty minutes?"

"Can you spare the time?" Magnus asks archly.

The truthful answer is no. Just looking at the pile of things he needs done before Saturday makes him want to cry, but he's made it through the first week of September without losing Magnus, and it's only a few more days. He can do this. "Sure."

"Hmm. Can you actually spare the time?"

"I'll make the time," Alec promises, putting the phone on speaker and tidying the piles across his kitchen counter. If he leaves it a mess, he'll spend twenty minutes tomorrow morning trying to find everything. "Just let me get dressed and I'll head out."

"If you're not dressed," Magnus says softly, voice teasing, "what are you wearing right now?"

"Sweatpants and a t-shirt." There's a knock at his door. Alec rolls his eyes. "That's probably the super reminding everyone the water's getting shut off tomorrow afternoon. Let me deal with this and then I'm on my way."

"See you soon," Magnus says brightly and hangs up. Alec finishes organising his pages, and then he goes to the door.

When he opens it, there's Magnus with a very self-satisfied smile. He's wearing a charcoal grey suit, jacket loose over a crisp white shirt, and in one hand, there's a takeout bag. Alec might lose a few seconds staring, but he looks so good Alec wonders if he might be a stress-induced hallucination.

Magnus twists his shoulders, his grin getting wider. "Going to invite me in?"

"Um, yes, yes," Alec says, stepping back. And checking out Magnus' ass in those dress pants as he walks by. "Come in."

"Plates?" Magnus asks, holding the bag up. "Or straight from the carton?"

"Your choice."

"Chinese tastes better from the carton." Magnus places the bag on the coffee table, and then takes three steps back to Alec, still standing by the door. He slides a familiar, affectionate hand against Alec's cheek and kisses him hello. "Hungry?"

Suddenly Alec is famished. Although… "I should probably get changed." He's wearing ratty sweatpants torn at the knee and a t-shirt that was red and fit him loosely at about seventeen. Now it's faded into pink and tight across the shoulders and there's an old grease stain down the front. It's a comfort outfit from the days of cramming for exams at college.

"Not on my account." Magnus leans in, pressing another kiss to Alec's lips. "It's nice to see you out of your polished suits."

Alec's surprised to find himself smiling. "What are you doing here?"

"Given how upset you were when I was running late, I assumed you would have called or texted if you'd remembered. Since Saturday is day zero, I assumed you were just a little overwhelmed."

Alec sighs. "It's been a saga."

"Tell me all about it." Magnus presses a hand to the small of Alec's back, warm palm on the bare skin where his t-shirt rides up, and leads Alec to the sofa. "Over food."

***

"This is the first time I've worked with this florist, and there has been so much back and forth," Alec says, dropping his chopsticks in the empty container on the coffee table. "I just feel as if they're going to let me down. Honestly, I'm expecting a call tomorrow saying they can't do it."

It's only as Alec looks across the detritus of their meal that he realises he's been talking the entire time. That never happens. Izzy always says she has to pry personal information out of him with a crowbar and usually Alec's much quieter around anyone who isn't family. He's sure that's just what Magnus wants: a boyfriend who forgets dates and then makes the whole conversation all about him. "I didn't get a chance to ask. How was your week?"

"Not as eventful as yours." Magnus waves a hand at the stacks of paperwork on Alec's kitchen counter. "The highlight of my week was catching up over drinks with Catarina and Ragnor."

"I thought Ragnor lived in Cambridge?" Alec tries to keep track of these details. Catarina is a nurse at Beth Israel Hospital in Manhattan; Ragnor is a retired history professor. Magnus has a whole host of wonderful stories featuring one or both of them. "When did he get here?"

"Online," Magnus says quickly, leaning forward to pick up two fortune cookies. He hands one to Alec with a wink. "When I'm around, they tend to be very accurate."

Alec snorts, but he breaks it open. " _Your success will astonish everyone_ ," he reads out loud. "Did you rig that somehow?"

Magnus laughs, and opens his own. " _Advice is like kissing. It costs nothing and is a pleasant thing to do._ "

"It doesn't say that," Alec says, grabbing the slip of paper from Magnus' hand. It does, in fact, say that.

"I told you. Fortune cookies are very accurate around me."

"Because you're psychic," Alec quips before he can stop himself. Mocking Magnus for what he believes and how he makes a living? Smart, Lightwood.

Magnus gives him a long look, watching Alec carefully as he speaks. "It's not precognition so much as… Magic helps you sense the world in a different way. There are streams and energy flows. It shows you more about a person than they normally let the world see. It's not the future, it's the present truth. It's usually enough to guide someone to a future that makes them happy."

Alec doesn't believe any of this stuff, but he knows Magnus does. And he is a little curious. "So what did you see around me when we met?"

Magnus reaches up and runs a finger along the shell of his ear, a signal that he's about to say something flirtatious. "All the obvious things. Handsome. Confident. Very comfortable in positions of responsibility and authority. In control."

"It was my party. Of course, I was in charge."

"Yes and no. It wasn't about the party. It's who you are, Alexander. You step forward and take on a challenge, and never once consider sitting it out, leaving it to someone else to fix," Magnus says and Alec shrugs. It's true but Alec doesn't understand why other people don't. How do they expect anything to get fixed if no one takes action to fix it? Someone has to do something. "My first impression was that you were bold and open."

Alec snorts. "Open? I have to introduce you to Izzy. She'd find that hilarious."

"Open-hearted. You know who you are and what you care about, and you don't hide that. Standing up and being counted…" Magnus sighs. "I learned long ago how hard that can make life. It's far safer to blend in."

It makes Alec's chest ache, the thought of this kind, generous man being hurt. He doesn't know what to say, so he reaches over and rests his hand over Magnus'.

"You might not believe this but there was a time when every head would turn when I walked into a room." Magnus bows his head, shrugging as if it's ridiculous. As if Alec won't believe him or hasn't noticed the way people check Magnus out when he walks by. For all the chunky cardigans and safe neutral colours, it doesn't disguise how hot he is. "I used to dress for attention."

"What changed?"

"I saw how the world treated people like me. How easily a crowd can turn into a mob." Magnus looks at him and there's something in his eyes so heartbroken and scared. Alec doesn't know what to say. He's 6'3" and he knows how to handle himself, but he's never fought without gym mats. He's never walked down a street and felt outnumbered or threatened, but clearly Magnus has. "There was a close call with a friend of mine, Dorothea, and after that, it just made sense to tone things down a bit. Before you know it, that's who you've become."

"Maybe," Alec says but he doesn't think it's that easy to change who you are. If it was, he would be a lot more charming and a lot less intense. "I don't think a person can change that much. Maybe what you show the world changes, but deep down, you're still the same person."

Magnus laughs. "You wouldn't recognise the person I used to be."

"That's not true."

"So you'd have no objections if I showed up to our next date decked out in jewels and eyeliner?"

Alec's brain goes offline at the idea of Magnus -- his clean cut, boy-next-door Magnus -- with eyeliner around his pretty eyes. Fuck, he'd look incredible.

"Apparently not," Magnus says lightly and Alec feels the back of his neck flush. "Good to know."

***

The first thing Alec does on Friday is call Lydia. Well, no. The first thing he does is have a shower, and then spend a few minutes staring into the mirror, wondering if the slight bruise Magnus left on his neck is going to be hidden beneath a shirt collar. Apparently, they've lost the ability to kiss goodnight without it turning into one of them pressed against the nearest wall.

Once he's dressed and on his second coffee, he calls Lydia.

"Alec," Lydia says brightly. "All set for tomorrow night?"

"Actually, I was calling to ask a favour. Is there any chance you could spare one of your events team tomorrow?"

"What happened to Raj?"

"Lost a fight with his bathtub," Alec mutters. He finishes his coffee and glares at the empty mug. "He'll be fine, but he can't work this week."

"Let me see." There's a soft noise of the phone being placed down, then the clatter of a keyboard. "Not this weekend. We've got two weddings and an anniversary party. Everyone's rostered on or on leave. What do you actually need?"

"I can man the door, but some help with set up would have made life easier."

"I can spread the word amongst the porters. See if anyone wants to make some extra cash for a few hours?"

He'd spend half his time overseeing everything they did, and still probably have to correct it. "No, it's fine. I'll figure something out."

"Let me know if you change your mind."

They make their goodbyes and hang up. Trudging to the kitchen, Alec makes another cup of coffee and pulls out the work from yesterday. He can manage this on his own. He just needs to be smart about it.

The tables are being delivered at two, and the storage room is easily big enough for him to move the tables in there and set one up to work at. The balloons and flowers are delivered at four; the bunting, streamers and tablecloths are already on-site. He's got the pastel teacups from the Institute party and wonderful hexagonal plates in his six theme colours, but he can give those to the caterers to arrange.

That still leaves the sound system and the lights but if he starts on those… He'll run out of time to do the decorations. But Simon's playing anyway -- Alec could always ask him to come twenty minutes early and set that up.

He's got this. It will be fine.

Then the phone rings and the florist apologises.

***

"Hey! Stop that!" Izzy yells as she opens the door to Alec's pounding fist. "You'll worry the neighbours."

"I've been out here for five minutes," Alec growls.

Behind the thick frame of her glasses, Izzy frowns. "I thought you were going to call when you got here."

"I did." Izzy waves him in, so Alec steps inside. "You didn't answer your phone."

Fishing in her jeans pocket, Izzy pulls out her phone. She taps it but the screen stays dark. "Huh. I must have forgotten to charge it."

Alec cannot roll his eyes hard enough. "Keys," he says, holding out his hand.

"Whoa." Izzy pulls back, trying to stare him down even though she's only up to his shoulder. "Sit and tell me what's wrong."

"I'm busy, I don't have time for--"

"Sit." Izzy stabs one finger towards the couch -- still looks great there -- and then pulls out the big guns. "Sit or I'll call Mom."

"I'm serious. I don't have--"

"Give me your phone," Izzy says, holding out one hand, palm up.

"What?"

"Mine's dead. I can't call Mom on that." It's so ridiculous that Alec's startled into a snort, and Izzy beams at him. "That's better. You were gritting your teeth so hard it looked like you were going to crack a tooth."

"Yeah 'cause a dentist trip is exactly what I need right now."

"If you told me what's going on, maybe I'd know what you need right now."

Alec could fight it but he knows Izzy is just as stubborn as he is. She'll keep pushing, and there's a chance she actually would call their mother and at twenty-four that's just embarrassing. "The florist flaked on me. I need Simon's van to go to the flower market."

"And?"

"And then I'm going to have to spend the afternoon creating the centrepiece bouquets. Which I can do, yes, but it's not my strongest skill and it's going to take a lot of time and effort to only look half-decent."

"And?"

"And Raj is out of action so I'm going to spend tomorrow afternoon moving tables into storage, preparing the decorations, moving the tables out of storage, and then running around like an escaped inmate trying to get everything done in ninety minutes," Alec says, his temper building just as he says it. "Then I'm going to be stuck on the door taking tickets, and I'm not going to be able to tell the caterers if they're set up wrong and I'm certainly not going to have a chance to talk anyone into donating!"

Izzy stares at him, trying to hide her smile. "Lightwood Eight?"

"Might be a Nine," Alec admits. "I think I made my Uber driver cry on the way over here."

"Well, Simon got held up so he won't be back for another hour."

"You couldn't have started with that? I could have been--"

"Also," Izzy says, shoving a hand in front of his face, "did you even consider asking for help?"

"I tried. Lydia can't spare anyone."

One dark, sculpted eyebrow rises above Izzy's glasses. "What about me and Simon?"

Like Alec didn't think of that earlier. "You said you're spending the weekend on that searching algorithm project. Simon has that Indie magazine interview." Izzy's face lights up, so Alec quickly adds, "Remembering that doesn't mean I like him. It means that I can't use his van tomorrow afternoon."

Alec looks around the living room. On the bookshelf, the blue action figures have started rubbing elbows with the orange ones. Clearly, someone has no idea of what a warm colour actually is. It seems pointless to stand around waiting, so Alec sits on the couch and pulls out his phone. He's halfway through replying to an email when Izzy says, "Clary!"

"What?"

"Clary," Izzy repeats, pulling out her own phone and the frowning when it won't turn on. "She's great at flower arranging. It's the artistic eye for colour."

Alec considers it. He's never seen her in clothes that clash with her bright orange hair, and that does prove a good sense of coordination. "There's a strict colour scheme."

"If you buy the flowers, Clary could do them tonight." Alec can't hide his scowl at the idea of Clary spending the evening in his apartment, even if it is doing him a favour. It's not that he hates her, but he doesn't have any reason to like her either. Izzy takes one look at his face and says, "If you bring the flowers over here, Clary can stay the night and work on them. And Simon can bring them to the library tomorrow."

That would solve the issue of how he's going to transport the flowers. And it means he won't be up half the night, getting increasingly frustrated at his own limited skills. "That would help a lot."

"And Simon and I can set up the sound equipment and the lighting," Izzy says, reminding Alec that he'd forgotten to ask about that. "And I'm sure I could mark off guests and let them in."

Alec had considered that, but… "You'd miss Simon's performance."

"He'll understand."

***

When Alec drops the flowers off at Izzy's, Clary's already there. "Oh, they're so pretty," she says as he carries in buckets of cut flowers: pink, lemon and apricot roses, pale green carnations, tall strands of lavender and light blue hydrangeas. There's an assortment of daisies and dahlias still in the van.

"There's more," Alec says, placing those buckets on the floor and going back outside. It takes another two trips to bring in all the flowers and the vases.

"Wow," Izzy says, "it looks like a meadow of wildflowers exploded in here."

"When have you seen flowers of this quality growing wild?" Alec asks and Izzy rolls her eyes in reply.

Clary claps her hands together and grins with far too much enthusiasm. "So what are we going for here?"

"These flowers," Alec says slowly, "in those vases."

"But what's the vibe? Are we talking casual and carefree, a cottage garden grown wild? Or perfectly symmetrical bouquets, every table and every display exactly the same? Is it just table centerpieces or do we need statement bouquets as well?"

"Six for the standing tables, four smaller ones for the seated tables. Two larger ones for either end of the buffet table, not too wide. One large statement for the foyer. It's a raised bookshelf but it's the first impression. We want something eye-catching. Don't worry about the dance floor. I've got paper floral garlands for there, and no chance of broken glass if a vase gets knocked."

Clary doesn't ask him to repeat any of it. She just nods and says, "And what sort of feeling are we going for?"

"I want the mix of colours in every bouquet, but not uniform. It shouldn't be structured or rigid. It should be…" Alec considers what he'd want the bouquets to be and what he'd struggle to produce. "Soft. Summery. A little dreamlike. Magical." 

Clary nods. "Okay. Do you want me to send you photos when we're done?"

"Yes," Alec says but Izzy talks over him.

"No, because Alec is going home and getting a good night's sleep before he makes everyone cry." She grins and Alec regrets telling her anything. Ever. "I will send you photos tomorrow at 10am, and no earlier, and that's only so you don't stress all morning. Clary will do a fantastic job and you need some sleep."

"You grow more and more like Mom every day," Alec says dryly but Izzy just herds him out the door.

"Get some sleep!" she tells, slamming the door behind him.

***

Alec decides the sensible thing would be to go home, have a nap for a couple of hours, and then make a start on the emails that will be waiting for him on Monday. It will be a nice break to do some work that doesn't have a looming deadline attached.

He eats a burger on the way home and then goes straight to bed. He means to sleep until ten, and then get a few good hours of work in, but when his alarm goes off, he can see sunlight creeping across his tiny living room. Alec blinks at his bedroom doorway. He really must have been tired to fall asleep with the door open.

Alec reaches across for his phone, turning it off before the Beatles can finish the last verse of "Hey, Jude". It's the alarm he uses when he's being gentle with himself, when he could sleep in for another hour if he really needs it. Most mornings, he just uses the shrill electronic beeping that comes as a default tone.

There are two messages: one from Izzy and one from Magnus. He should check the one from Izzy first, that would be the sensible, responsible thing to do but no one else will ever know. He opens Magnus' message instead.

It says: _"Proof that Chairman Meow does exist 😁"_ and there's a photo of a short-haired tortoiseshell cat curled up asleep, with his head on Magnus' shoulder. Magnus is lying down, clearly in bed, grinning up at the camera. Alec takes a moment to appreciate Magnus' bare shoulders in a tank top, and then notices the fluffy grey tail at the edge of the shot.

 _"Proof you sleep with both of your cats,"_ Alec replies. He's had months of visiting Magnus place but every time, Chairman Meow disappears before Alec walks inside. Magnus' other cat, Church, is a big, grey, frowning furball that always glares at Alec like an intruder and refuses to move from wherever he's sitting. Secretly, Alec's a little fond of him and the begrudging purr he'll give if Alec scratches his ear.

 _"Better than sleeping alone 😉"_ is the quick reply and Alec raises a hand to hide his grin. Then realises there's no one around to see it.

Alec pulls up Izzy's message and he's pleasantly surprised. The bouquets look professional. Better than that, they look perfect, whimsical and pretty, a gentle rainbow of soft colours. _"Tell Clary if she wants to make a little money on the side, I'd happily pay her for work that good,"_ Alec sends and then gets out of bed.

***

Alec arrives at the Park Slope Library with his garment bag and shoes in one hand and a water bottle in the other. He knows from experience that storage rooms are dusty, dirty places and hydration is important, even when you feel too busy to take three minutes to find a drink. He's feeling good. After a ridiculous amount of sleep, he took the time to go to the gym and sweat until the endorphins kicked in, and then had the longest hot shower of his life.

He is ready. He can do this.

He pulls the storage space keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door. It's the perfect place to store everything he needs until he has access to the room. He hangs his suit up, fills his water bottle and then waits out the back for the furniture company.

The Java Jace coffee truck beats them to it. It seems like too much of a coincidence that Jace is working here today. Alec strides up to the driver's side door and waits for Jace to open the window. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working?"

"What's the point of running your own business if you can't play hooky?"

If you ask Alec, the point would be knowing that the work's been done correctly and to the right standard. "Why are you here?"

Jace gives a puppyish grin, his blond hair falling across his mismatched eyes. If Alec's being brutally honest, it's a pity the guy's straight. He's a terribly attractive combination of hot, cocky and weirdly sweet. "Apparently, I'm helping you move furniture."

"What?"

"Izzy asked Simon who asked Clary who asked me." Jace shrugs, turning off the engine. "Things we do for girlfriends, right?"

"I wouldn't know."

Jace snorts, giving him a disbelieving look. "Are you the only man alive who hasn't done something stupid for the sake of sex and staying in someone's good books?"

Alec may have waxed his chest for a boyfriend. He might have signed up for a forty mile fun run due to a misguided crush. He might -- possibly -- have offered to supply decorations when Magnus joked about throwing his cat a birthday party. "You can't park there," Alec says.

"Huh?"

"The furniture is being delivered in the next ten minutes. You can't park here."

"Fine," Jace huffs. "I'll find a park and then I'll be back to help. And you can tell Izzy, so she tells Clary."

He drives out just as Alec spots the delivery truck. Alec carefully counts for the right number and size of tables -- they're white and black and mismatched, but they'll all be covered by pastel tablecloths, so it doesn't matter -- and then signs for them as Jace comes jogging around the corner.

The driver passes a table down from the truck and Jace grins, insisting on lifting it by himself. "Inside, third door on the left," Alec says, noticing the way Jace flexes his arms as he lifts the table. Jace doesn't have Magnus' biceps, but Clary is still a lucky girl.

Alec takes the next table, and Jace sees him in the hallway. "Come on, slowpoke," Jace calls out.

"Not everything's a competition," Alec replies like the sensible adult he tries to be.

"So says the loser!" Jace calls out as he hurries outside, and then it's on. There are eleven smaller tables, so Alec knows there will be an obvious winner. He speeds his pace up and crosses paths with Jace at the back door.

Jace looks surprised, and then grins and starts hurrying down the hallway. By tables five and six they're both walking as fast as they can without running. By tables nine and ten they're both running, holding the round tables awkwardly to avoid banging knees and still get through doorways. They stack those tables in the store room, locking eyes and grinning in challenge. Then Jace spins and starts running down the hallway and Alec is only a second behind him.

Unfortunately for Jace, Alec has longer legs and likes sprinting, and he manages to reach out and get his hand on the last small table with Jace on his heels.

They're both bent over double, trying to catch their breath. "Call it a tie?" Jace suggests.

"So says the loser," Alec bites back and Jace laughs.

"Sure," Jace says, pushing his hair back, "but that means you've got to move the last table on your own."

Alec could, but he's sweaty and a little bit tired from defending his own ego. "It's a tie," he says. "Now get the other side of this."

They move the last few large tables in together. Before Jace leaves, he insists on making Alec a good coffee to get him through the day. Alec requests a triple Americano and Jace makes it without a single comment. Alec decides Simon actually has two good qualities: treating Izzy well and knowing Jace.

***

Alec collects the library keys at exactly six-thirty. He's had a day of sorting everything he needs into clearly demarcated piles, and filling a ridiculous number of balloons. He had a sandwich for lunch and a turkey salad as an early dinner. He's ready. He starts by moving the tables out, but he's only on the third one when Simon texts to say the interview is running late and he'll be there as soon as he can.

Alec glares at the text message and calls Izzy. "You heard Simon's running late?"

"Hi to you too," Izzy replies, all but laughing at him. "I know. He was going to drive me over but now I've got to get the bus."

"You're running late too?"

"Hey, Alec, it'll be fine," Izzy says quickly, proving a little too much panic must have shown in Alec's tone. "I'll call Clary and Jace--"

"Don't--"

"They'd want to help--"

"Don't call them," Alec says loudly. He can feel the rising panic in his chest. "Jace got tickets to some art installation for tonight. They're probably already in Manhattan."

"Come on, Alec," Izzy says gently. "Don't go full Lightwood over this."

"I have seventy-two minutes before the doors open and it's only me! If any situation deserved a Lightwood Twelve, it's now."

"Breathe," Izzy insists and Alec drags in a slow breath and holds it for a count of four as she adds, "I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll get an Uber."

"On a Saturday night in Brooklyn?" Alec mocks but Izzy doesn't rise to the bait.

She says, "I will think of something. Start with the most obvious things. Leave the sound system and the lights to us."

Alec can feel this night spiralling out of control. There's too much to do -- the dance floor and the front doors and the foyer and the dining area. It all needs to be decorated, and he can leave the foyer to last, yes, but it all needs to be done, and he doesn't know where to start.

Alec starts with one deep breath and then decides if he doesn't know where to start, his first step will be to empty the storage room and at least have everything in the correct area. He'll move the tables first and then get the decorations that belong in each space.

Then he can work out a battle plan.

***

There is no ladder. There should be a ladder and there is no ladder. Alec loves the Classical Revival style of this building -- the amber stained-glass archways and freestanding ash columns -- but the vaulted ceilings are tall and there is no way he's going to be able to hang the bunting and balloons without a ladder.

It's the worst possible time for Magnus to call but Alec still answers it. 

"Alexander," Magnus says warmly, and for a second the world seems a little bit brighter.

And then Alec remembers the world is a miserable, dark place with a shortage of ladders. "Magnus, this isn't a good time for me. Can I call you back tomorrow?"

"Perhaps you could open the back door first?"

Alec has an apartment. He doesn't even have a back door, unless you count the window leading to the fire escape. "I'm at Slope Park Library."

"I know," Magnus says. "I'm waiting at the back door near the parking lot."

Alec blinks. "You're here?"

"Yes. Would it be easier if I came around the front?"

"No," Alec says, rushing towards the back of the library. When he opens the door, there's Magnus: black hair neatly parted, expression amused and kind, and wearing a typically sensible and understated outfit of tan jacket, brown shirt and chinos. Just the sight makes Alec smile. "How did you know I was here?"

"I did pay some attention to those colourful invites of yours," Magnus says, stepping inside and pressing a soft kiss to Alec's mouth. "Also, your sister called me."

"How did she get your number?"

Magnus tilts his head and raises one disbelieving eyebrow. "I pay for city-wide commercials. My phone number is not a state secret."

"Oh." Alec feels a little guilty for worrying Izzy might have used her computer magic for evil (or at least illegal) purposes. All she had to do was google Magnus Bane. "What did she say?"

"That your promised help was delayed and you were about to have an 'epic meltdown' over it." Magnus steps closer, catching both of Alec's hands in his, forcing Alec to stop picking at the skin around his fingernails. "How can I help?"

Beggars can't be choosers, Alec tells himself. Sure, he'd prefer Magnus never sees him cursing over the lack of fucking ladders, but he needs the help. "Set up the dining room and I'll call someone about the ladder."

"Ladder?"

"I can't find it. There's got to be one here. I've checked everywhere."

There's something mischievous and knowing in Magnus' smile. "There's one lying by the back of the building."

That's ridiculous. Alec would have seen it earlier today… unless the maintenance staff were using it this afternoon and forgot to pack it away. 

Sure enough, the ladder is right there. A great big metal ladder that he should have seen when he opened the door for Magnus. "How did I not see that?"

Magnus shrugs and looks away. "I'll help you carry it in."

They set it up on the dance floor, so Alec can start with the balloons, streamers and floral garlands. Even if they don't get the lights set in time, it can still look good.

He leads Magnus to the children's reading room, where the tables are already in place. He explains quickly what should be where, and shows Magnus the quickly sketched plan. "Just do whatever you can. Tablecloths and flowers first," Alec says. "I'll take over once I'm done in there."

***

Alec works as quickly as he can, but he's only just got the hanging garlands right when his phone rings again. He flicks it on speaker and keeps working on the streamers. "Alec Lightwood speaking."

"Alec, this is Lydia."

Alec frowns, wondering why Lydia would call an hour before the event starts. She's not the type of person to lose a ticket or forget an address. "Yes?"

"I got out of work early and since Raj can't be here, I thought an extra pair of hands could help."

Alec grabs his phone and starts climbing down the ladder. "Where are you?"

"Front door," Lydia says and Alec sprints across the foyer to let her in. She's already dressed for the night in a pale green dress that crosses her chest and gathers at her waist, flowing gently down with a chiffon crepe skirt. It shows all the right curves, and almost floats around her. Add the small sideways braid in her otherwise free blonde hair and a lighter makeup style than she usually wears, and Lydia looks like a wood nymph come to life.

"You look great."

"Thank you," Lydia says with a bright smile. "What can I do?"

Alec leads her to the dance floor and only has to point at the streamers and the balloons. 

"Grid pattern across the ceiling or radiating from the centre?" Lydia asks, stepping out of her heels and pulling ballet flats from her handbag.

The room is a long oblong with high square windows and the sharp angles of an imposing tiled fireplace. It's not square enough to work with a central focus, but the angles do need softening. "Zig zag," Alec says, and Lydia nods and starts climbing the ladder. "I'll be in the dining area."

The foyer is still big and empty, except for a large centerpiece of flowers covering a waist-high bookshelf. The caterers will set up the bar along the angled service desk, and with the lights down low, it will work. Then Alec steps into the adults reading wing and stops. The space should be a matching oblong room, the walls filled with low bookshelves and big square windows, and the far wall housing a large fireplace that dominates the area. It should be big and plain and practical, hopefully with a few colourful tables and some flowers to break it up.

Magnus has transformed it. The hanging pendants lights are dimmed to a soft glow, and hanging from the ceiling is a beautiful mix of coloured paper lanterns and tiny fairy lights, hovering impossibly high. There are strings of fairy lights along the bookshelves, their tiny warm glow catching on the coloured book covers. The tablecloths look fantastic: a watercolour splash of the party's theme colours, blue mixing into lavender and apricot, pale pink and mint green and lemon. Clary's bouquets stand tall on each table: smaller, higher arrangements on the cocktail tables, and larger lower arrangements on the few seated tables. There are fairy lights wound around the vases, lending an almost magical air to the tables. The seated tables are already set with water glasses and silverware, and the plain white covered library chairs look inviting.

Magnus has even set up the catering tables at the end of the room. Tablecloths splotched with faint colour, two large bouquets at either end, a stack of hexagonal plates in various colours on one side, and the other end has the collection of mismatched teacups from the Mad Hatter Party. Alec knew those would look fantastic in this setting.

"What do you think?" Alec stops staring at the room, and turns to see Magnus nervously tugging at his earlobe. "Close enough to your plan?"

"Apart from the paper lanterns." Alec glances up, loving the look of them but knowing that wasn't in any of his boxes. "They're great but I didn't bring them."

Magnus points over his shoulder. "There's a storage room. I'll return them afterwards."

"How did you get them up?"

"Ladder," Magnus says quickly. "Found it in the storage room."

The question Alec really wants to ask is how did Magnus do this. Alec has been planning parties for years now. He knows how long it takes to set up a room, even if you know exactly what you're doing and have a few extra sets of hands. This is not something one person can do in twenty minutes. It's not possible.

But no one else was in here. Alec would have heard the doors open if Magnus had invited helpers. But one person couldn't do this.

"Alexander?"

Magnus looks concerned and Alec has an event starting in under an hour. This is a mystery that can wait until another time. "You figured out how to dim the lights?"

Magnus nods. "Yes?"

"Want to have a look at the foyer? If we can get some fairy lights there and draw attention to the flowers and the bar, it'll make a great first impression," Alec says, and Magnus pulls a face that looks a little too relieved. "Where was that ladder? I have an idea for the front doors."

***

Izzy comes sprinting through the door in bright yellow flats and a knee-length pale yellow dress that looks like a fifteen-year-old's prom dream. It's high necked and the skirt is ridiculously ruffled, and Alec will never understand how such a stunning woman has no idea how to show off her figure. He will never, ever say that to his sister but someday she will dress for her generous curves and the entire world will be awed. Not tonight, but someday.

"There was a thing and the Uber driver cancelled, and I ended up getting Simon to drive me and he's just parking the van," Izzy says in one rushed breath, and then she looks around the foyer. It looks amazing. Alec is not asking, but Magnus somehow found coloured spotlights, so the room is washed in gentle shadows while the bar and the flowers are lit beautifully. "You figured out the lighting?"

Alec decides not to take offense at Izzy's disbelieving tone. He only blew up a lighting board one time, but he keeps his distance from the technical stuff just in case. "Magnus worked it out. Lydia helped, too."

"Aw," Izzy says, and before she can make a crack about him making friends, Alec says, "The sound system still needs to be set up. You and Simon have fifteen minutes before people start arriving."

Izzy scrunches her face at him. "We'll only need ten," she says over her shoulder, heading over to the dance floor. Lydia's checking the bathrooms, adding coloured hand towels and the stack of mini rainbow soaps that Alec couldn't resist on Etsy. The caterers are setting up in the staff lounge, carrying through food and setting a buffet at the catering table, with canapes to be served by waiters in the foyer. They already have staff at the bar, and a selection of coloured bottles lining the service desk.

Alec only needs to move a table to the front doors as a ticketing station, and they're all set. And change into his suit.

"I think you missed your calling, Alexander," Magnus says, walking beside him as Alec carries the small table. "I'm quite sure you could lead an army with those organisational skills."

"Too many people," Alec mutters. He could handle the bloodshed but not the public speaking. He places the table down, and pulls the invitation list and two pens out of his pocket. "There. All ready."

"It will be a wonderful night," Magnus says with the confidence of someone who's never had to deal with the caterers running out of white wine or a near-fatal allergic reaction to shellfish. Getting the setting right is no guarantee of a smooth night. "In fact, I was thinking about staying. Or changing clothes and coming back."

"You know I'll be working, right? I'll be busy all night," Alec says without thinking. "Not that I don't want you here, but Izzy and Simon are both helping out, so you won't know anyone."

"I can entertain myself on a dance floor," Magnus replies, and then shrugs. "Or I used to. If I get terribly bored I can always go home, but I thought… I could help you pack up."

"Simon's letting me borrow his van. I'm sure you have better things to do at 1am than box up decorations."

"Or I could help pack up, and we could spend the night at my place?" Judging by the coy smile on Magnus' face, he definitely means sex. Which… yes. Definitely yes. (For a moment, Alec remembers making Magnus promise they'd sleep together at least once; for a moment, he wonders if this is it. If tonight was too much, if Alec should have refused the help, if Magnus saw Alec at his most uptight and demanding and decided Alec isn't what he wants in his life. If this one last ditch effort before giving up and saying goodbye.)

Then Alec takes a breath and tells himself not to jump at shadows. "Are you bribing your way into one of my parties with sex?"

Magnus giggles, a soft twitter that he quickly silences. "That's a very mercenary way to put it."

It's completely unnecessary but Alec grabs a pen and adds Magnus' name to the bottom of the list. "There we go. You're on the list."

***

At least Izzy waits for the Waraskas to finish talking to Alec and walk away before she grabs his elbow and starts dragging him towards the dance floor. "Izzy, I'm still working" Alec hisses, forced to walk along with her or risk making a scene.

"Your boyfriend can dance."

"You're supposed to be manning the door."

Izzy rolls her eyes. "Everybody's here. I went to bring Simon some water between sets, and look," she says, stopping at the doorway and waving towards the crowd of dancers. It takes Alec a moment to spot Magnus in the dimly lit crowd. He's been busy all night and didn't see Magnus return, and to be honest, he assumed Magnus would be just another guy dressed in plain chinos and a pale business shirt. It's on theme, yes, but it's a dull choice compared to the pastel suits and coloured chinos and jackets that some of the men have chosen.

But Magnus is on the dance floor with Lydia, twisting neatly in a long cream jacket with a high mandarin neck. They both step sideways and he dips her, and then they're clasping hands, taking matching criss-cross sideways steps and Alec can't help watching the hem of Magnus' jacket sway against his thighs. The way his legs move in his closely fitted pants. Magnus is wearing silk slippers that look like some Arabian dream, curled at the toes. For a moment, Alec remembers being very young at Disneyland and being utterly infatuated by the live action Aladdin, as infatuated as an eight year old can be.

"Indian," Izzy says beside him, grinning as if she knows exactly what Alec's remembering. "Apparently, Magnus travelled India with his ex."

Alec rolls his eyes. Trust Izzy to get as much information as she possibly can.

"You should go dance with him," Izzy says as Magnus spins Lydia close to him, until she's dancing in front of him, her back to him and his hands on her shoulders. She shimmies forward and then sways down to the floor, and behind her Magnus copies her moves perfectly.

"Waltz, foxtrot or salsa," Alec replies. "I am very comfortable sticking to my strengths. Besides, some of us are still working."

"You are such a buzzkill." Izzy blows him a kiss, fluttering her eyelashes ridiculously. "I love you, but you could take a few minutes to enjoy yourself. And dance with your hot boyfriend."

"You want to dance so badly, go dance." The guests have all arrived and Alec's already spent three hours greeting everyone and telling them about Rainbow Rooms and talking them into sparing a few extra dollars. The caterers have everything under control, and it won't get busy until people start leaving. "I'll man the door. You go catch Simon's last set."

"You could ask Magnus to waltz. Simon could play something slow."

Alec looks over at the dance floor, where Magnus is now dancing with a group of girls in a loose circle. It's graceful and amazingly controlled, the way he moves his arms and shoulders and hips, as if his body is entirely under his control. It's hot. Alec swallows, remembering Magnus' offer to stay the night. It's too easy to imagine Magnus in bed, the smooth way he moves his hips, the strength and control…

When he looks back at Izzy, she looks like she wants to laugh at him. "Let's keep my two left feet a secret for now."

Izzy presses a kiss to his cheek and heads over to the dance floor. Alec heads back to the foyer, secretly glad for an excuse to sit. It's been a long night but no one hires a party planner who looks exhausted at their own party. Luckily, all it takes is a clipboard, a list and a pen in his hand to look busy.

Alec hears footsteps and looks up with a friendly smile. "Hi," he says, grinning for real when he sees it's Magnus. Up close, he looks even better. His usually neat hair is brushed up and back, drawing attention to those cheekbones. The cream jacket is covered in a fine pattern embroidered in gold thread. There's a sheen of sweat on his skin, a flushed tinge of pink under his tawny skin.

"Izzy told me you were trapped here." Magnus sits on the table, crossing his legs. When he looks down at Alec, there's a golden glimmer around his dark eyes.

"You look incredible." Alec waves a hand from Magnus' head to his feet. "All of it. Incredible."

"I thought maybe for old time's sake. I can't remember the last time I wore this."

"Looks good."

"I could say the same," Magnus says, tugging at the lapel of Alec's blush jacket. It's an easy colour to accessorize and perfect for summer events, and Alec knows it makes his eyes pop. Practical and flattering, the way clothes should be. "Did you set the theme of this party because you know how good you look in that suit?"

"No." He fell in love with the mismatched tea cups from the Institute party and built the theme from there. "Shouldn't you be in there dancing?"

"Shouldn't you be dancing with me?"

"Not if you want all ten toes in working order at the end of the night."

"Your sister spilled your secrets." Magnus leans in, his eyes glittering with promise. "I know you had dancing lessons as a child."

"Mom insisted. If we wanted to learn martial arts, we both had to have dancing lessons, too. I'm passable, no better than that."

Leaning in closer, Magnus smiles hopefully. "Come dance with me."

Alec has never abandoned a job in his life. He's never turned his back on his responsibilities. He's never wanted to before. "I'm the only one here. If something goes wrong…"

"They could find you on the dance floor. Just one dance, Alexander. Please?"

Alec bites his lip, unable to look away from Magnus' face, the gold eyeliner making him impossibly pretty. "Magnus."

"I'll keep an eye on everything," Izzy says, striding across the room. Alec doesn't miss the wink Magnus gives her, or the small thumbs up gesture she makes in reply.

If Alec's being honest, the idea of Magnus and Izzy talking and scheming together makes him a little bit giddy. He loves his sister with all his heart but she's never been shy to tell him what she thinks of his boyfriends. She's never liked one enough to be in cahoots with him before.

"I don't think I like you two ganging up on me," Alec mutters, standing up. Magnus takes his hand and tugs him towards the dance floor.

"If you want us to believe that," Izzy hisses as they pass her, "you need to tone down that smile."

In the double doorway, Alec tugs at Magnus' hand until he stops and turns back. Cupping a hand around Magnus' cheek, he leans in for a kiss, slow and just a little too deep for public consumption. Magnus kisses him back, free hand landing on Alec's waist.

"What was that for?" Magnus asks, soft and breathless. He rests his cheek against Alec's, arms sliding around Alec's waist to hold him.

"Scheming with my sister."

"Remind me to do it again." Magnus drops a quick kiss to Alec's lips and pulls away. "Now, I was promised a dance. I'll even let you lead."

Alec rolls his eyes. If he tried to follow someone else's lead, there would definitely be crushed toes involved. He sometimes mistimes the steps going forwards, let alone backwards. "Salsa, waltz or foxtrot? Your choice."

"Foxtrot!" Magnus actually looks excited by the prospect. "Nobody does the foxtrot anymore."

"For good reason," Alec says, leading Magnus to the edge of the dance floor where they can't bump into too many people. It's old muscle memory to hold his hands in the right positions, but there's a spark of anticipation when Magnus' hand slides against his palm, his other hand on Alec's shoulder. Simon's weird slowed down version of "Oops, I Did It Again" is not Alec's first choice to dance to, but there's a workable beat.

Magnus follows his lead without hesitation. He's graceful even when Alec fudges a few steps. Alec looks at Magnus to apologise, but Magnus beams at him, leaning into the next turn. His smile is so bright it's like he's lit up from within.

His smile doesn't dim until the song stops. Alec only doubts himself for a moment. "Waltz or salsa next?"

***

The guests have all left. The caterers said goodbye ten minutes ago, and now it's just the four of them left. Magnus is by the dance floor, talking to Simon as he packs up.

"Are you sure you don't want us to stay?" Izzy glances over her shoulder to where Simon's packing his keyboard away. Simon looks up at her, and her face lights up in a smile. Normally, it's the sort of sappy display that would make Alec roll his eyes and question his sister's taste in men, but right now he's overwhelmingly grateful that his sister loves someone who loves her back. It's easy to be magnanimous when the party is over and it's been a success.

He's also feeling a little guilty about leaving her stuck on the door for an hour while he danced with Magnus. He didn't mean to be gone that long. It's hard to remember things like time and responsibilities with Magnus in his arms. "Go. I'm perfectly capable of packing up."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll return the van to Simon tomorrow," Alec promises. Izzy looks like she wants to argue, so Alec leans down to her height and says quietly, "I offered to drive Magnus home."

"In that case, four is definitely a crowd." With one enthusiastic nod, she strides over to Simon, leans down and whispers something in his ear. Something that makes his thick eyebrows jump above the frames of his glasses and leaves him shoving the last few cords into cases and snapping them shut.

"Okay, we're going now!" Simon calls out, and Izzy laughs as he takes her hand and leads them outside.

"Call me tomorrow," Izzy says, less a request than an order. "Bye, Magnus. It was great to meet you!"

Magnus gives her a small imperial wave and Alec locks the front door behind them. "Sometimes," Magnus says, strolling up to Alec, "it's a curse to have good hearing. I'm happy for Simon, I think, but I didn't need to know--"

"I don't need to know any details about my sister's sex life," Alec says, holding a hand up as if it can stop the no-doubt horrifying mental images. "As far as I'm concerned, she's never had sex and all future children will be due to immaculate conception."

"And after she said such nice things about you."

"What? What did Izzy say?"

"It was all flattering." Magnus brushes a hand over his short hair. It's flattened from the heat of the dance floor, slicked back like a silent movie star. "Possibly even true."

Alec has no idea what that means. He's not sure he wants to know what that means. On second thoughts, he'll make Izzy tell him tomorrow. "I'll go get the boxes from the store room and we can start taking everything down."

"Before you do that..." Magnus stares down at his hands, clenching his fingers and then stretching them out. "Since it's just us here now and it's been such a nice evening, we should… talk."

Magnus sounds serious. If it hadn't been such a nice night, if Alec wasn't absolutely sure that Magnus enjoyed himself, he'd worry this was a break up speech. He thinks of Magnus laughing, saying, "Just waltz, darling," and then twisting his feet around Alec's steady steps, turning a boring, dull dance into a spectacle that made people stare. He remembers Magnus' thumb tracing over his cheek, warm and tender, when Alec finally forced himself back to work.

Alec steps close enough to rest a hand on Magnus's elbow. He looks at Magnus, gives him his full attention. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

The smile Magnus gives him is quick and uncertain. "I don't think there's an easy way to say this. I keep meaning to and then, well, I find any excuse not to. But at some point, you have to be honest about who you are. Right?"

"Either that or really commit to keeping the lie intact." It's enough of a joke that Magnus looks amused for a moment. Then the worried expression returns. "If you want to tell me, that's great. But if you don't want to, you don't have to. I l--" Alec nearly says the wrong word but he catches himself in time. "--like you as you are. You don't have to explain or justify it."

"I'm a warlock," Magnus says slowly. "I can do magic."

Alec blinks, not sure what he's supposed to say to that.

"Before you say anything," Magnus says gently, "I know I've told you this before but you don't understand. I need to prove it."

"Prove you can do magic?" Alec asks slowly, wondering if Magnus is about to pull out one of those trick decks and ask Alec to pick a card. Max went through a six month stage of constantly keeping cards and coloured handkerchiefs in his pockets. It was an annoying six months.

Magnus flips over his hand. He clicks his fingers, and an image of Chairman Meow hovers in his palm. It's semi-translucent under the coloured lights, but in the dark, it would probably look better. 

"That's a cool trick," Alec says. He'd love to know how Magnus is doing it. After all, Max's birthday is next month. "Is there a projector in your watch?"

Raising an eyebrow at him, Magnus pulls up the embroidered cuff of his jacket. There's no watch. He flicks his fingers again, and the image changes to a miniature Church, scowling into the distance.

Another click of the fingers, and the image changes again. This time to a glowing eight-spoked pinwheel in bright blue. "No," Magnus says, "that's not going to mean anything to you." With another snap of his fingers, it changes to the initials of Alec's logo, the intertwined L and E of Lightwood Events.

"It means it's a cool trick," Alec says, raising a hand to move his fingers around the glowing letters, trying to work out which direction the light is being projected from. No matter where he moves his hand, there isn't an interruption in the image. When he waves a hand through it, there's that tingling spark he sometimes gets when Magnus holds his hand. Magnus lets out a tiny gasp, and Alec stares at him. "You felt that."

"Short answer: yes. The long answer is more involved."

"Go ahead."

Magnus rolls his shoulders, but Alec refuses to let himself be distracted. He keeps watching Magnus' face, all the uncomfortable signs he's telling the truth. "Your grandmother knew those stories because your family used to be the angel's warriors. There's still some magic in the bloodline. Not enough for you to access it, but enough that it…"

"It sparks," Alec says because he's noticed that. That's a fact no matter how ridiculous it would be to have an angel in the family tree. "When we touch."

Magnus almost looks offended. "Not always."

"Often enough that I've been avoiding wearing anything that isn't cotton." At Magnus' furrowed brow, Alec adds, "I thought it was static electricity."

Magnus waves his hand and the image disappears. "It's my magic reaching for yours. It's harmless, but I should have better control than that. Which is the entire point of this conversation, really."

"The sparks?"

"Control. The way that I sometimes lose it around you."

Just the way Magnus says that makes Alec smile. If Alec stops and thinks about this, it doesn't make any sense. This isn't how the world works. But Magnus wouldn't lie about something as weird as this. He trusts Magnus, so maybe he just needs to take this on faith. "So you can... do magic. Sparks and holograms, and what else?"

Magnus takes a step back. He tugs at one sleeve and then the other, and then waves both of his hands wide. Tendrils of blue flames rise from his hands to the ceiling. They start in the middle and then circle out, like ripples on a pond, and every time they touch balloons or streamers, the decoration disappears. The circle keeps growing wider, spreading across the ceiling and down the walls, making the paper garlands wink out of existence until the room is once again a plain library.

Alec thinks: this can't be real. Alec also thinks: he knew one person couldn't possibly decorate a room that size without help. "Those belonged to me," is what Alec says, because magical boyfriend or not, replacing a tasteful paper garland isn't an easy job. "What happened to them?"

"Back in their boxes in the van," Magnus replies with a shrug. "What's the point of magic if you still do manual labour?"

"Can you do the other rooms as well?" 

"I can. Did you need to keep the flowers?"

"Not really," Alec says, and this time, Magnus waves one hand in a graceful gesture, and the decorations in the foyer are gone. No swirl of magic this time, no glowing circle radiating down the walls. Just gone. Alec moves to the doorway to peer into the dining room. It's clear as well. "Was that-- In here? Were you trying to impress me?"

"I was trying to prove magic exists," Magnus says, tugging at his ear, so… Yes, he probably was trying to impress Alec. 

"I'm impressed that I don't have to make ten trips out to the van tonight." Then Alec thinks of something. "Where are the tables?"

"In the store room. You said the hire company was picking them up tomorrow afternoon." 

Because Magnus -- who can apparently do magic -- listens when Alec rants about his plans in detail. Because Magnus pays attention to the things Alec cares about. "I don't understand. You didn't have to tell me about this."

"Even if I stopped using magic, it's a part of me. Under certain circumstances, it would show." Magnus sighs, dragging a hand over the low bookshelf in the middle of the foyer. "The only way to keep it a secret is not to get involved with anyone. Honestly, I'd convinced myself that was the safest way to live. Before I met you."

"Is it dangerous? To tell me?"

"Less so these days. People would rather spend months finding the trick than believe in demons and magic. The real danger," Magnus says, leaning back against the bookshelf and folding his arms across his chest, "is losing my heart to someone who can't tolerate what I am."

"Accept," Alec says firmly. "Not tolerate. You deserve someone who accepts and loves you, Magnus, not--"

"Not someone who runs away in terror?" Magnus lets out a low chuckle, but he doesn't meet Alec's eyes. "Less likely now, but still. Do you know the first spell every warlock learns? It's a glamour. A way to hide what we are from the world."

Alec nods but he doesn't interrupt. He steps closer, close enough to hear Magnus' quiet tone.

"It becomes second nature. A spell you cast without even thinking about it. A spell you cast before you're truly awake each morning." Magnus curls around his folded arms, his head curved away from Alec. "But you can't lose yourself in passion and keep that control, so it slips. The glamour fails."

Carefully, Alec presses a finger beneath the point of Magnus' chin, tilting Magnus' face up towards him. Alec blinks, needing a moment to process what he's seeing. Magnus' eyes are usually kind and caring and a deep, dark brown but now… There's a dark edge to them, but they're gold. A bronze gold with narrow pupils, like a cat's. They're stunning. Otherworldly, yes, not something Alec would expect to see outside of Halloween, but they're amazing.

Magnus glances away and with a flick of his fingers, his eyes are brown again. Still very pretty, but also sad. "Every warlock has a mark," he says lightly. "At least it's not horns. I'd miss the ability to wear a good hat." 

It takes Alec a moment to put it together. When he does, he can't help himself. "Is this why we haven't had sex? Because I'd see your eyes? You couldn't have insisted we do it in the dark?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's been driving me crazy. You've been driving me crazy, and I've been trying to be a good boyfriend about it. I figured there was an ex, and a bad breakup, and she messed with your head, but that's not it at all. I've been trying to keep everything toned down because it's September and I know I'm a lot to deal with when I'm busy, and it's not like I can trade off the bad behaviour with good sex because we're not there yet," Alec says, "and the whole time, I could have just said, hey, I'm really into blindfolds?"

"Alexander." Magnus sounds as if he's trying not to laugh. As far as Alec's concerned, that's a big improvement. "Firstly, you can't trade sex for demerit points. Secondly, you are not a lot to deal with."

"I have exes that would argue with both of those points."

Magnus' look of judgemental scorn is a wonderful thing to behond. "Thirdly, I still would have said no. It's been a long time since I felt like this about anyone, and I wouldn't want to start something with dishonesty."

"When you say a long time… how long is that, exactly?"

"At least a century," Magnus says, and for the first time Alec realises it might not be hyperbole when Magnus talks like that.

"Which makes you, what? A hundred and twenty?"

"More like four hundred," Magnus says airily, leaving Alec to mentally recalibrate from ten years difference in life experiences to thirty-seven times that. That's a lot of years. "Three hundred and seventy-eight, I think. It's easier to round up."

"Yeah," Alec says, thinking there are three and a half centuries between them.

"Especially when other warlocks ask. I've been known to exaggerate." Magnus pushes himself up onto the bookshelf, crossing his legs at the knee and leaning forward. Like this, he's actually taller than Alec. "I'm surprised you're taking this so well."

"Did you think you'd scare me off?" Alec asks. He's not going to think about the age difference until tomorrow, when he has some time to freak out about it in private, but he doesn't need to tell Magnus that. "You saved me an hour of packing up tonight. You offered to help so we'd still spend time together this month. You get on with Izzy. I'm not walking away from that."

Alec leans his hands on the bookshelf, either side of Magnus' thighs. He's hoping for a kiss, but Magnus only cups his cheek and asks, "And my eyes?"

Alec shrugs. "I always thought your eyes were pretty. Still do." That gets him the kiss he was hoping for, warm and tender and growing more heated by the second. He has to stretch his neck up to kiss Magnus like this, but it's worth it for the way Magnus slides a hand around the back of his neck, the way Magnus melts against him.

They pull back, both of them a little short of breath, Magnus' eyes gold and adoring. "Is the van parked somewhere it can stay overnight?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I have one more trick to show you." When Alec steps back, Magnus pushes himself off the bookshelf and walks to the middle of the room. He moves both arms in big, overlapping circles and something appears. Something round and orange and wavering in the air.

"What is that?"

"Portal," Magnus says happily, looping his arm through Alec's. "One of my better inventions. Think of my loft," he says, walking forward and pulling Alec with him.

There's a noise roaring in his ears and a sudden heaviness, like jumping into a warm pool, and then Alec steps into Magnus' living room. Somehow, he's unsurprised that every surface hosts a large bouquet of pastel flowers. "Okay," Alec says, grinning, "good reason to date a warlock."

***

The weather is so nice the next day that Alec walks back over to the library to collect the van. Magnus offered to portal him -- apparently, that's a verb and a noun -- but Alec refused. Some moderate exercise in the fresh air would be good for him. Let him walk off the ache of stretched thighs and the lethargy of a really good night's sleep. Plus, it gives him a chance to call Izzy.

"Will you be home this afternoon if I drop the van off?" he asks after she picks up.

"What happened to first thing in the morning?" she teases back.

"I only got out of bed an hour ago."

"You slept until midday? Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

Alec looks at the street around him. There's no one close enough to overhear. "Who said we were sleeping?"

Izzy's happy squeal nearly deafens him. "Really? Tell me details."

"No."

"At least a scale rating then. So I know if I should be commiserating or congratulating," Izzy says happily. "On a scale of one to ten…"

"Eleven," Alec says, biting his lip as he remembers last night in pornographic detail. Honestly, he was right about the way Magnus can move his hips. "Maybe a twelve."

"Is that just the months of sexual frustration talking?"

"I don't think so," Alec says, remembering this morning. Curled up warm in Magnus' bed, trading soft lazy kisses in the early morning sunlight. The way Magnus had stroked a thumb along his cheek and gazed at Alec adoringly. "I think this is…"

"What?"

"I don't know," Alec says because he doesn't know how to put words to the happiness bubbling in his chest. How to explain the warmth of Magnus handing him a strong cup of coffee this morning; the way they'd stood shoulder to shoulder on the balcony, sipping their mugs. The easy way Magnus had paused before kissing him goodbye, saying, _"I'll see you tonight?"_ and Alec hadn't even considered saying no. "But it's good, Izzy."

"Good," Izzy says, giving a little hum. "You know what this means, don't you?"

"What?"

"You're going to have to bring him to Mom's birthday party." Izzy sounds gleeful. Alec's not sure if it's because she's happy for him, or she's just happy to divert their mother's attention from Simon's career choices.

"That's over a month away," Alec says, as if he hasn't already sent an email to their mother to let her know he'll be bringing someone. "We'll see how it goes."

**Author's Note:**

> Since someone asked what would happen at Maryse's birthday party...
> 
> It would start a little rocky because Maryse would be intense and trying to be supportive but also a little socially awkward ("I heard you like to drink" is kind of proof that Alec gets some of his social skills from his mom). She would ask questions about Magnus's business and be a bit dismissive of it without really meaning to be, and Magnus would be a bit defensive and on edge (he hasn't had to meet someone's parents in... forever).
> 
> It would be an uneasy truce between Maryse and Magnus, until something goes wrong at the party -- Simon knocking the very impressive and professional cake off the table before it was served. And Maryse would shoot up that Lightwood scale; she'd be furious and also trying to brainstorm a way to fix it without letting her large number of guests know what happened, and Alec would step forward to do damage control and Magnus would suggest that he knew a friend who could help.
> 
> "You know a... _friend_?" Alec asks, because he's not going to say magic in front of his mother, even though he's pretty sure that's what Magnus means. "In this city?"
> 
> Magnus gives a tiny frown. "On the outskirts," he says. "Let me make a few calls. When is the latest the cake can get here?"
> 
> "Within two hours," Maryse says firmly, eyeing Magnus speculatively. "I can't stall for longer than that."
> 
> Magnus steps forward, gently taking Maryse's hands in his. The tension in her shoulders relaxes to normal levels. Alec's shouldn't be surprised by that; if anyone can perform impossible feats, it's Magnus. "We'll get the cake here. Go enjoy your party."
> 
> "Are you sure? I--"
> 
> "Go," Magnus says warmly, waving hands to shoo her out. "Alec and I can do this."
> 
> And that is the start of Maryse all but adopting Magnus into her family. Izzy sometimes jokes that their mother loves Magnus more than Alec, but Alec's just smug that he was right: Maryse definitely likes Magnus more than Simon!


End file.
